


Want

by TWDObsessive



Category: The Walking Dead (TV), The Walking Dead - All Media Types
Genre: Aggressive Rick, Anal Sex, Angst, Awkward Daryl, BDSM Scene, Dom/sub, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Falling In Love, First Kiss, First Time, Handcuffs, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Oral Sex, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Sex Toys, Sex on a Car, Shy Daryl, Spanking, Virgin Daryl
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-02
Updated: 2015-07-12
Packaged: 2018-04-07 05:46:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 40,403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4251654
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TWDObsessive/pseuds/TWDObsessive
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rick is a rich businessman who knows how to get what he wants.  And what he wants is his limo driver, Daryl.  An intense D/s relationship ensues, but can it just be sex?  Or will it become more?  </p><p>This is my first non-zombie AU!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. I Want You

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is already completed and beta'd! I'll be releasing one chapter a day for the next two weeks. Thanks and praise goes to my beta reader, Skarlatha. She isn't just my beta reader but my idol, my mentor, my cheerleader, my therapist, one of my favorite writers on AO3, and my friend! You have no idea how carefully she reads each chapter and how much effort she puts into her feedback and comments...All so that you guys get the best I can come up with!

The limo pulled up right on time as Rick walked down the front steps of his large indulgent home, briefcase in one hand and cell to his ear in the other. The driver got out and opened the back door. Mr. Rick Grimes always requested Daryl Dixon when making arrangements with the limo company. Daryl saw a flash of approval behind his eyes, likely from noticing that his instructions for his favorite driver were once again followed.

"I don't care, Blake. That's not what I asked for and it's not acceptable," the businessman said firmly into the phone. The driver took his briefcase and nodded with a soft "morning, sir," in greeting.

Rick nodded back and climbed in, continuing with his phone call. Daryl brought the briefcase around to the driver’s side back door and placed it on the back seat so the opening faced Mr. Grimes.

He'd gotten into a rhythm with this customer. Liked to get this assignment. The man was simple to please because he was very clear about what he wanted. Daryl liked that. 

After getting back behind the wheel, he took off for the business meeting Mr. Grimes had scheduled as the self-made real-estate tycoon continued snapping out demands on the phone.

The young driver was glad to have managed to find a job that put him behind a wheel all day. He'd prefer not having to wear a suit, but the pay here was better than driving cabs or airport shuttles. He knew enough about cars to be a mechanic if he'd really wanted to be, but he had a bit of wanderlust and preferred to be on the move, surrounding himself in new places or even the same places, as long as he was moving, driving. He had some sense of control behind a wheel and that was something he normally didn't get in life. He wasn't good at communicating, wasn't really a people person. With a car you didn't have to talk. If you wanted to go right, you go right. 

He was ok with being that kind of person--meek, shy, socially awkward. It was just the way it was. Driving for this job didn't require anything other than following directions and controlling that vehicle in order to get from A to B. Most of his customers were like Mr. Grimes in that they didn't require idle chit-chat. 

Though driving for work was nice enough, driving his Harley in his spare time was where he got most of his sense of freedom. The only power he ever had or really wanted was being on that bike. And he did have plenty of free time, both parents dead and his only brother in prison. Dating was non-existent because that required talking and communication and understanding, and for Daryl those were hurdles he was unable to jump.

As they hit the highway, Daryl enjoyed seeing the thick summer foliage as the trees blew by him on the long stretch of road. He listened as Mr. Grimes handled one call after another and wondered how he could do that. So focused on work that he never even seemed to take time to enjoy things, like the wind in the trees as they flew down the road.

The man wanted for nothing, but sometimes Daryl felt sorry for him. Like he didn't know how to live, either. 

Daryl's thoughts were broken by the throaty growl of a cherry red Ferrari behind him and as he checked the rearview to get a better look, he noticed that Mr. Grimes had also taken notice and was admiring it as it drove by.

"Well, it's your job to make it happen," Rick said and ended the call, still trailing his eyes after the red car pulling ahead next to him.

"It's a 1962 Ferrari 250 GTO, sir," Daryl offered.

"What?"

"The car you were admiring. A Ferrari 250 GTO. Really rare. Nice."

"Yes. It is," he answered, dialing another number.

\-----

Daryl slept still sticky from masturbating the night before, too tired to worry much about clean-up. Though he didn't have any relationships, he still needed release just as much as the next guy. When he climbed into bed on Friday night, he still had Tuesday on his mind. 

Mr. Grimes was probably like Daryl as far as relationships, but for different reasons. He just didn't have the time. He was important enough of a businessman that information could be found online. Though he was a very private man, Daryl was able to find out that he’d never been married or had kids. Other than that, all he could find on the web was that Rick Grimes was a businessman who rarely made appearances and had a reputation of being rather cut-throat in business deals. Hell, maybe he didn't have the social skills either, but with the kind of money that guy had, he couldn't imagine it would be hard to get a date. Plus, he was down-right gorgeous. 

Daryl popped in one of four well-worn pornos. He watched half-heartedly. Couple of threesomes with two dudes. Lots of head and anal sex. If only real life was like porn, all he'd have to do is call for a pizza or have the super come up to fix the AC. No talking. Just some bad 70's music and he'd be able to feel more than his own right hand. But his life was what it was. So as the pizza in the porn grew cold on the kitchen counter, Daryl slipped his hand into his boxers seeking relief. 

He found his mind drifting this time and his eyes closed, shutting out Dirk and Barry and Candi. His imagination brought up a clear picture of Rick Grimes. What must he look like under that uncomfortable business suit? Did he wear boxers or briefs? What was holding that powerful cock in place?

The driver wasn't surprised to see a man in his mind's eye. He honestly didn't know what he'd want in real life, and didn't expect to ever need to figure it out. He'd handle it himself with whatever popped into his head. Man, woman, one of each, a whole damn group. Whatever it took. And this fixation on Rick Grimes was doing the job just fine. 

The small home Daryl'd rented surrounded by woods allowed him to moan without worry of neighbors hearing. Once he had enough money saved up to get out of those thin-walled apartments, he’d left fast.

The familiar voices from his television suddenly grew annoying and he used the remote to turn it off. He finished himself off to the sound of the woods, his own small, lonely breaths and images of a ruggedly handsome millionaire grinding against Daryl on the hood of the limo.

Daryl woke to his phone, the ringtone from work of all things, pulling him out of a deep dream. His alarm clock read 5:30 a.m. and it was a Saturday, but when he heard it was for a Rick Grimes job he woke up quicker and moved through his morning routine with focused speed.

For some reason he’d been lucky enough to be requested now every time the gorgeous millionaire needed a ride. Still struck him as odd that this guy was using a limo service instead of a driver of his own, but he’d been using this service for years and Daryl guessed it must just work.

One of the other guys at work said all four of those garage bays at Rick's house were empty. Guy didn't even own a car. Daryl had shaken his head at that. Christ, the FIRST thing he'd buy if he had that kind of money was a nice car.

After flying down the highway to Mr. Grimes’ Lexington Avenue property, he pulled up right at 7:59. A minute early. At exactly 8:00, Rick came out of the house in jeans and a navy button down shirt. He tucked a cell phone in his pocket, pointed a garage door opener and Daryl watched the first bay rise as he got out to open the back door for his customer.

He stopped in his tracks with his hand on the passenger door handle. The opening garage door slowly revealed its contents. It was the same kind of car they’d seen earlier in the week.

Daryl’s jaw dropped and he forgot that he was actually supposed to be opening the car door. Rick walked casually up to the limo.

"Did you find and buy a Ferrari 250 GTO since Tuesday?" Daryl asked.

"Yes."

"There were only 39 made. How in the hell did you find one”?

"I wanted it and I know how to get what I want," Rick said simply. He threw the keys to Daryl, who barely reacted quickly enough to catch them.

“Park the limo. Let’s take the Ferrari today.”

Holy fucking shit, Daryl thought. And he didn't know what he was “holy shitting” more, the car or the sight of Rick’s ass in tight jeans walking with purpose to the garage. Daryl parked, locked up the limo and jogged over to the new car, climbing into the vehicle slowly like he was timidly sliding into a confessional with a bucketload of sins. It was stunning. Breath-taking. Hot. And he was quite certain it would move like the wind. 

Since this particular car was really made for racing, it was tight quarters inside and he brushed Rick’s arm as he reached for the stick. Daryl took notice to his own stick getting hard at the combination of car and contact.

Rick was already poking away on his cell, sending texts or e-mails from the looks of it. “Where to, sir?” Daryl asked softly. Rick gave him an address. 

“Do you know the way?" Rick asked. "Car didn’t come with a GPS.”

“Yes, sir. That’s like a three-hour drive, though,” Daryl said to make sure he'd heard the address correctly.

“It is. Is that a problem? I reserved the limo for the day.”

“No, sir. Not a problem. Just wanted to make sure I heard you right.” Daryl turned the key and felt the vibrations from the growl of the engine coming to life through his entire body.

Every time he shifted gears he brushed against Rick's arm and between that, the smooth steering and the feel of the tires hugging every curve, he felt so high that his feet might never touch earth again.

While Daryl admired the summer sky and the feel of forward movement, Rick typed away on his cell. The thunder from the powerful engine definitely made it too loud for him to handle any business calls. And the more Daryl thought about it, there wasn't even room in this car for a briefcase if he needed to bring it. Not really very practical.

As he closed in on the address, he looked over to his passenger. “Is it this restaurant up ahead, sir?”

“Yes,” Rick said, leaning forward and tucking his phone in his back pocket as Daryl pulled up to the front doors. “Park the car and join me inside for brunch,” Rick said and got out, walking up the stairs to a hostess who was already opening the door for him.

Daryl didn’t quite understand what was happening. Was the guy afraid of getting assassinated and wanted a food tester? Was Daryl gonna have to cut his meat up for him? He did as instructed, more than instructed actually, and parked far in the back of the lot, away from other vehicles to minimize curious fingers stroking the sleek cherry red finish. 

When Daryl walked up the stairs the young blond hostess opened the door and smiled. “Your party is waiting for you in the back. Follow me, sir.” 

Sir! Daryl never got a sir in his life before this job. Must be the suit. He was seated at a small table set off from the others and situated by a giant window overlooking a lake. Rick looked up and put his cell down on the table. “I already ordered for you.”

“Ok,” Daryl said 'cause he didn’t know what the hell else to say. The man kept his gaze on Daryl. He had a confident stare. Not intimidated by anyone or anything. Completely comfortable in his own skin. Nothing like Daryl. The silence was driving the younger man nuts. He finally broke it. 

"What made you suddenly want a car?"

"I liked it." Simple enough answer.

Daryl whispered across the table with a look of naivety and confusion, "Why did I just take you three hours to have breakfast with your driver in it?”

"I like my driver," he answered and picked up the cup of coffee that had already been sitting before him. "I'd like to fuck you, Daryl. How can I make that happen?" he asked like he was asking about the weather and then took a swallow from his mug.

Daryl’s throat went dry. He opened his mouth to try to speak but literally had no words. Did he just hear this right? 

Showing a little impatience, Rick said, “Well, let's start with this--are you gay or straight? That may help you find some words.”

"I…I ain't ...nothin'," Daryl stuttered out.

"What's that mean? You're a virgin?" Rick asked in a normal tone of voice that contradicted the timid whispers Daryl had been speaking in.

A little defensive, Daryl answered, "Not a lot’a people to meet the way I grew up. And folks I meet driving a limo usually ain't interested in... uh, meeting me."

"I'm interested," Rick said with the same tone he'd used to broker a business deal. "So that's a yes then to virgin?"

Daryl nodded and saw a smirk ghost the businessman's face.

"Well, you jack off, right?"

"Uh, yes, sir," Daryl responded, growing a little uncomfortable with the incredibly frank conversation.

"Well, who are you picturing when you do it? A woman? A man?" Rick signaled to the waitress for more coffee as he spoke and it was quickly refilled. Daryl waited for her to walk away before he answered.

"You, sir."

Rick choked on his sip of coffee, quickly regaining his composure.

"Is that so?” He paused. “You saying that 'cause you’re hoping to get the car out of this arrangement?"

"Fuck no,” Daryl said in genuine disgust. “Jesus, I ain't going from virgin to whore for you."

Rick nodded. "So does this mean you are interested?"

"Yes, sir,” Daryl said quietly, biting a nail. A waitress came to the table and placed a plate of eggs, sausage and toast in front of Rick and pancakes in front of Daryl. He never mentioned why he assumed Daryl would want or like pancakes. He just started forking into his eggs.

"I am a greedy, demanding and selfish lover. Is that going to be a problem?" Rick asked, looking up at him with those ice blue eyes waiting for an answer before he took his first bite.

Daryl shrugged . "Don't know any different. Won't have nothing to compare it to."

Rick smiled at him. Might be the first time that had ever happened in all these months of driving the man.

“Eat,” Rick instructed, and Daryl grabbed one of the forks and cut into the pancakes.

“How old are you?” Rick asked before he took his next bite.

“Twenty-three, sir.”

The businessman nodded and took another bite of eggs.

Daryl wondered if he was supposed to carry a conversation here. He awkwardly asked, “How old are you?”

“Daryl, I don’t really like to answer questions. I ask them.”

“Oh, ok,” Daryl said quietly and took his first bite of the most amazing pancakes he’s ever tasted in his life.

“34,” Rick answered anyway and then picked up his phone after a text message appeared.

Daryl ate his pancakes quietly while Rick responded to texts and ate more of his breakfast.

As Rick added jelly to a slice of toast, his eyes met Daryl's, searing into them. "Gonna need to know what you’re looking for here. How'd you end up making it to 23 a virgin looking like that?" he asked, taking a bite.

Daryl parsed out the comment in his head. What do I want? Why am I a virgin? And what DO I look like? Good? Is that a compliment? God, Daryl hated having to make conversation. 

"Mr. Dixon?" Rick asked impatiently. 

"Uh. I'm not real good with people and like, conversation. Don't really know how to… to talk to people really."

"Well, I personally am not in need of the conversation," Rick said. "So you think this might be a good arrangement for you? If you can take it, I can guarantee you it will be better than your right hand."

Daryl stifled an awkward giggle. 

"You are incredibly good-looking and I don't think you are aware of that," the millionaire said matter-of-factly. "I like that about you."

"Thank you, sir." Daryl said, barely above a whisper.

"Are you a good listener?"

"Yes, sir."

"Do you enjoy taking orders? Are you obedient?"

Daryl looked around shyly. The hairs on his neck were tickling him as they raised against each other.

"Yah, cause... I don't really know what to do ‘less somebody tells me." Daryl answered. 

Rick smiled a second time. "Don't worry, Daryl. I will tell you what to do every step of the way.” The older man paused and then continued with a necessary caveat, "I'm not looking for romance here, just sex. Will that be ok with you?" Rick took another piece of toast and started applying the jelly. 

"Yah," Daryl answered. He honestly didn't think much further than actually getting laid. So that seemed fine by him.

The rest of the meal was eaten in silence, Daryl lost in his own thoughts trying to lessen his nerves by telling himself there was nothing he would have to do but what Mr. Grimes would tell him. Didn’t even need to worry with making small talk. Mr. Grimes didn't like questions anyway. Daryl liked the idea of that. No worry about saying or doing the wrong thing because this man would tell him what to do and guide him on what to say.

The drive back had Daryl buzzing almost as hard as the engine. He caught Rick observing him out of the corner of his eye. Rick seemed to like comfortable silences and Daryl liked that.

About half-way home Daryl had noticed that Rick hadn't been checking his phone. He just looked out the window and seemed to enjoy the ride. Daryl smiled at this relaxed Rick Grimes.

"Does it feel nice?" Rick said.

"What, sir?" Daryl asked.

"The car. Smooth drive. I like it."

"I'm glad you do because it probably cost you more than your house," Daryl answered, downshifting into a sharp curve and brushing Rick's arm.

"Can't take it with you, Daryl," he said.

Rick opened the window a little when they got off the highway and slowed to 40 and Daryl watched him enjoy the feel of wind in his short wavy hair.

Daryl parked the Ferrari in the open garage bay and got out. He handed the keys to Rick and let their hands linger together now that he knew there was mutual interest. Rick kept his commanding, steady gaze on Daryl.

“Come back tomorrow. Dress in your normal clothes. 10 a.m.”

“Ok.”

\-----

Daryl got very little sleep. The anticipation of the next day was like mainlining caffeine. He was jittery and nervous, and yet not nervous at the same time. Rick knew he was a virgin and wouldn't know damn-all of what to do. And this man clearly already had an agenda that would be very succinctly communicated to Daryl. And that was good for him.

In the morning, he dressed in his jeans and a sleeveless Harley T-shirt. He’d considered wearing one of his work button-ups. But Rick clearly wanted to see him in his normal attire and since Daryl had no idea what the man saw in him, he assumed maybe it was a matter of wanting to go slumming once. So he’d just be himself. He did decide to go with his only pair of hole-less jeans.

He pulled up at 9:57 in the only vehicle he owned, his Harley. And waited until his watch ticked to 10 sharp before he reached for the doorbell. Before his hand got to its destination, the door opened. Rick was in jeans again with a plain white t-shirt and no shoes or socks. His wavy hair was not as strategically waxed as it normally was. Still brushed and very much in place, but less rigid. Daryl wondered what it would look like slept on and wondered if this arrangement would allow him to find out.

“You’re on time. Good,” Rick said. “Come in.”

Daryl walked in and stared awestruck at the huge inside, high ceilings, artwork and marble statues everywhere he turned. It was a damn mansion.

“Are you nervous?” Rick asked.

“No, sir,” Daryl answered, feeling like he sounded confident. And actually feeling confident.

“Why not?”

“Just need to do what you say, right?” Daryl said, both hands tucked into his front pockets.

Rick smiled. “I think this arrangement is going to work out really well for the both of us, Daryl.”

“Yes, sir,” Daryl said.

Rick led the way to his master suite. Daryl couldn’t help but speak on the way as he stared in awe at the giant staircase and the large upstairs hall. “What do you do with all this space? Never been married or had kids. Why do you even need all this?”

“I wanted it. How do you know I've never married or had kids?”

“I googled you, sir,” Daryl answered honestly.

Rick smirked. “That’s your last question for the day, by the way.”

“Yes, sir. Sorry,” Daryl said, lowering his eyes.

In the middle of the bedroom before a California King, Rick told Daryl to undress.

He looked nervously at the open door. “Should we shut the door, sir?” he asked.

“That’s one,” Rick said raising a brow and Daryl knew what he meant. No more questions. “Take your clothes off. There's no one here but us."

Daryl obeyed and folded each item, placing them on the edge of an oak dresser.

Rick circled him. “You are fucking gorgeous,” he said. Daryl had never been naked in front of anyone before. He felt a blush spread from his cheeks down through his neck.

Rick put his hands on both sides of Daryl’s neck, thumbs up into his hair, and kissed him, instantly taking the dominant role as their lips intertwined, his mouth demanding and instructing. Daryl had never been kissed, either, but Rick was so dominant in the action that the younger man didn't even have a second to be nervous. 

Rick broke the kiss and then stepped back away from the younger man. He took off his own shirt, jeans and boxer briefs and stood in front of Daryl just holding that commanding gaze.

“What can I do for you?” Daryl asked.

“That’s two," Rick said.

“Shit. Sorry.”

“Do you even know how to give a blow job?” Rick asked, not condescending but just honestly in need of the answer to a question.

“Seen ‘em in porno’s, sir. Don’t seem too hard to figure out. Can I…” Daryl stopped himself before the rest of the question formed.

“Three,” Rick said. “And yes, you can. Get on your knees and let’s see if you can figure it out.”

Daryl knelt, put a hand on Rick's muscled thigh and used one to cup his balls. He licked up the shaft slowly, thinking back to a million pornos he had memorized for years. He took Rick in his mouth completely, bobbing his head up and down the shaft, taking it all the way ‘til it felt like he’d suffocate and then sliding back off it with tight lips, swirling his tongue. He sucked and kissed at the tip, getting slightly disappointed that he wasn’t eliciting any groans or sighs from this man. 

He kept at it, hoping Rick wasn’t disappointed. Daryl was not surprised that HE enjoyed doing it. Many of the thoughts that crept into his mind during masturbation involved giving blowjobs. It was a fantasy forever and now he feared he wasn't doing a very good job. He didn't want to be a disappointment. 

“That’s not bad for a first time," Rick said. "You can stop.”

Daryl stopped and looked to him for direction.

“On your hands and knees. Time to pay for your three questions, ok?”

“Yes, sir.” Daryl really had no idea what that meant or what was next to come, but his skin was buzzing like the Ferrari. He was revved up and ready to go.

“Daryl, you need to select a safe word in case I do something you wish to end. If you use it, I’ll stop and we’ll end this arrangement, ok?”

“Don’t need one, sir,” Daryl said, knowing he would obey anything without question because this man saw something in Daryl he wanted. So Daryl would give it all to him. 

“I’m not asking if you need one. I’m telling you to select one. Now.” 

“Limo,” Daryl said, because it was the only word he could think of that wasn’t a curse or a body part or just a groan of syllables that weren’t even words. He loved this feeling of being told what to do and what to say. It was turning him on and he was so hard he was suddenly becoming nervous about how long he’d be able to hold back.

“Ok. Good.” Rick knelt beside him and without much preparation or fanfare he raised a hand and slapped a hard stinging smack against the younger man’s ass. Daryl groaned in want. “You ok with that?” Rick asked.

“God, yes.” Daryl sighed, relishing the pleasant sting he still felt on his backside.

“That was one. You have three. Count them for me.”

He connected another smack.

“Two,” Daryl grunted.

And the final.

“Three,” he whined, starting to rock his body back and forth. 

“Will you be able to control yourself, Daryl?” Rick asked.

Confused, Daryl asked, “What do you mean, sir?” and then “ah shit” when he realized he’d asked a question.

He steeled himself for another smack and it came as expected. “Four,” Daryl gasped.

He found that he wanted more. Thought about bursting out into a litany of questions just to get them. 

“Can you control yourself from coming until I give you permission?”

“I can try.”

“Try hard,” Rick said in a demanding tone, a voice that was used to being blindly obeyed. “Get on the bed.”

Daryl moved quickly, laying onto his back and feeling his ass sting from Rick’s hands.

“Have you ever tried fingering yourself when you jack off?”

“No sir.”

Rick took a bottle of lube from the nightstand and grabbed the younger man’s hand, lubing his fingers. Rick kept Daryl’s moistened digits in his own hand and moved them to his entrance, encouraging Daryl’s finger to press into himself.

The younger man studied the whole process in awe. Rick knew how to do everything and the feeling of him literally controlling Daryl's hands was dizzying. Power radiated off the older man like heat from the sun.

Rick fucked into Daryl with Daryl’s index finger, keeping his eyes on the man below him. Before the younger man realized what was coming, Rick put his own index finger in to join Daryl’s and they prepared the young man’s hole together. 

The sensation was starting to pulse in Daryl's body and he panted, already concentrating on not coming at the thought of both their fingers pressed together and inside him. Daryl moaned and rocked his hips back into their hands.

The feeling of someone else taking control of his body was absolutely exhilarating. He didn't think jerking off alone would ever work again. This man's cock hadn't even been inside him yet. He hadn't even laid a finger on Daryl's hard, swollen and desperate dick, but the young man knew already that this was what he'd been waiting for. Someone to just take him. And tell him what to do. Someone to take control. He wanted this. God, he wanted this.

Rick pulled their fingers out, leaving Daryl terribly empty and eager. He took both Daryl’s hands and pushed them into the young man’s ragged dishwater blond hair, wiping the lube into his locks without concern. “Keep your hands in your hair. Do not move them. Do not touch yourself.”

“Yes, sir,” Daryl whispered. And he watched Rick lube himself up as he knelt between Daryl's legs. Rick's cock was thick and rock hard. 

"Are you ready, Daryl? It will hurt you at first, but I think you can take it," the older man said.

"Yes, sir, I can take it," Daryl whispered, and Rick leaned down with one hand and guided himself with the other, pressing slowly all the way into him.

Daryl let out a sigh that lasted the whole length of Rick’s slow entrance as he adjusted to the girth inside him. Rick started to fuck him slowly.

“Are you enjoying this, Daryl?” Rick asked, with a voice a little deeper than it had been.

“Yes, sir, yes…” he moaned in response.

“I want this to continue. Will you give yourself to me to use like this?” he asked, quickening his pace.

“Yes. You can have me,” Daryl panted and rocked his body back into Rick, hands still in his hair sticky with hardening lube.

“Good. You will come over when I tell you to. And you will do what I ask of you. You will be my property and I will be your owner. Is that clear?”

“God, yes.”

“Good boy,” Rick said and then his pace became frantic, fucking into Daryl without any control, hard, fast and deep.

Rick finally groaned and Daryl thanked God that the older man was close to coming because Daryl didn’t know how long he could hold out. Rick grunted and moaned again and Daryl could feel his release inside him. 

The younger man gritted his teeth, tears leaking out of the corners of his eyes as he tried desperately to keep his own orgasm at bay in order to obey his owner's wishes. Rick pulled out and looked down at Daryl’s dick and stomach. “You did it. You didn’t come without permission. That’s a good boy,” Rick said.

“God, sir, can I please?” Daryl begged, trying to move his hips up to rub his cock against his owner's hips.

“That’s five," Rick said, stone-faced. "On the floor. Get on your hands and knees." 

Daryl groaned in disappointment, suddenly petrified that he wouldn’t be allowed to come at all during his first time. He quickly obeyed Rick, finally pulling his hands out of his sticky hair and pressing them onto the hardwood floors.

Rick whispered into his ear. "You can come when you feel my slap for five.” And Rick brought his hand back and swung down hard on Daryl’s already-reddened ass. Daryl shouted “Five,” as clearly as he could around moans and breaths hitching as he pumped out a load of cum onto the floor below him without a hand having ever been on his cock.

“I am very impressed, Daryl. Now crawl back and clean up the mess you made with your tongue.”

Daryl obeyed, licking himself up off the floor, watching Rick’s bare feet standing beside him. Rick moved Daryl’s body so that he was kneeling. He spread his knees and moved his hands behind his back as if he were going to bind him. “This is how you’ll sit when you are getting ready for me, ok? Or anytime I want you to wait. Understood?”

Daryl nodded, heart still thumping. “Yes. Sir.”

After instructing him to dress, Rick walked Daryl to the front door. Rick stayed naked. And the sight of this man walking nude with his bow-legged swagger, confident and spent, brought Daryl's cock back to full attention in his jeans.

As Rick opened the door for his guest to leave, Rick asked one last time, “Are you sure this is what you want?”

“God, yes,” Daryl said. The older man tapped gently at the bulge in Daryl’s pants. “Do not ever touch that without me.”

“Ok. Yes, sir,” Daryl said obediently.

“Come back tomorrow at 7 p.m.”


	2. Sweet Like Candy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The D/s relationship continues to develop between Rick and Daryl.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those of you hesitant to read D/s... You've been warned....this chapter is very D/s-ish. Those of you all eager for the D/s....enjoy!
> 
> Thanks again to Skarlatha for reading, re-reading and double reading, like, every chapter! (And still reading it again when I post on here!)

That night Daryl got a text message from an unknown number. He didn't have anyone but work and an old number of Merle’s programmed into his phone. Daryl finished off a mouthful of Spaghettio’s and flipped open his phone to read it:

_Watch one of your pornos tonight and study up on BJ's. I think you can do better. Remember- Don't touch. ___

Daryl started feeling the blood moving through him, pumping through his heart and speeding through every vein in his body. He didn't think anyone had ever called or texted him before other than work or Merle asking for money before he went to prison for the long haul. His chronic shyness, social awkwardness, whatever it was called, had left him with a rather uneventful lifestyle. He lived this life of solitude not because he loved it, but just because he didn't know how to live any other way.

But he felt alive when Rick talked to him. Or texted. Whatever. It felt like finally not being invisible. It was nice.

And behind a phone he felt a little gutsier, a little more brazen and kinda playful. So he typed back in an attempt to make a joke.

_Who is this?_

_That's one._

Daryl got hard instantly and felt the sting from his still-pink ass. Such a biological and physical reaction just from some fucking words on his phone. He dropped the bowl of half-eaten lukewarm Spaghettio's in the sink and typed into his phone.

_What is your favorite color? Why is the sky blue? How much wood could a woodchuck chuck if a woodchuck could chuck wood?_

He paced, wondering if Rick would think it was funny. Cute maybe even. Or if he’d be pissed. Rick seemed like he was no-nonsense. Like he didn’t want any baggage or burdens from a real relationship. Daryl knew he just wanted him for sex. But was this kind of banter allowed? Was this part of sex? He didn’t really know. Frankly, he’d never felt comfortable enough around anyone before to have banter. To try to joke. It was… something he liked the feel of all of a sudden.

_Keep going, gorgeous, and it won’t be a hand this time. Now do as you are told._

Daryl closed his phone and sat in a kitchen chair alone with his trademark awkward grin. He kinda had someone. It was a unique situation, true, but it was one that suited him incredibly well and he felt amazingly lucky to have whatever he could of Rick's attention. While Daryl was just sitting home alone eating Spaghettio’s, someone was thinking about him. Thinking about him so much that he wanted to communicate. Daryl marveled at that. 

He decided the four pornos he owned must not have been good enough training material, so he grabbed his keys and took his bike to a nearby porn shop. At least he didn't have to worry about getting caught in there since he didn't have any friends and Merle was in jail. He doubted any of the people at the limo service would be in this section of town.

He went specifically to the gay porn section and looked without touching. When he bought the original four, he didn’t even read the covers. He just picked up the first four he saw. Paid. And left. But he wanted to get the exact right thing this time.

"Looking for something specific?" a voice behind him asked softly. Daryl jumped at the unexpected voice and turned, eye to eye with a way-too-happy employee named Eric, according to the name tag. The driver gave him a hesitant frown, not comfortable talking, but actually really wanting some information.

"Uh, yah. Um... I just need one that like... is a good way to learn how to give a good BJ." Daryl put a thumbnail in his mouth and started nibbling at it.

Eric smiled and leaned in conspiratorially, "New at this, sweetheart?"

Daryl nodded, thumb still firmly affixed to the space between his teeth.

"Well, I can help teach you, if you want a little more of a hands-on lesson." 

Daryl had no idea if he was joking or dead serious, so he said "no" quickly and stepped back. "Just a video."

"No problem, sweetie. Just wanted to offer." Eric laughed as he grabbed a DVD called ‘Jurassic Cock’ and handed it to a nervous Daryl.

"The 'plot,’" Eric air-quoted, "is about breaking in a new guy. Good stuff explaining it all to him with lots of close-ups. Nice cum shots too." Daryl's eyebrows shot up. Had everyone always talked so frankly about sex and he'd just not been paying attention? Christ, he just wanted a porno about BJ's, not a detailed Siskel and Ebert review of it. 

Thirty-nine dollars later, Daryl was back home, putting in his new DVD and leaning into his recliner. Less than a minute into it, he reflexively stuck a hand down his pants, caught himself and pulled it out. After the third time in five minutes that he accidentally started unzipping, he MacGyver'ed his right hand with duct tape to the arm of his recliner and kept his left hand busy biting a nail. He watched the movie four times in a row, studying every swipe of the tongue and bob of the head. He subconsciously slipped from nail biting to sucking and licking on his thumb, catching himself after several minutes of it. He wanted to be good for Rick. He had a purpose now and it was to obey Rick and the man wanted his cock sucked proper, so Daryl would do everything in his power to make that happen. He went to bed hard and sexually frustrated. Now that he’d had a taste of being with Rick, every minute without him was a little like hell.

\-----

On Monday, Daryl had four jobs before his 7 p.m. rendezvous with his… owner. He liked the feel of that word and spun it in his brain, mentally fingering at it like a vase on a potter’s wheel. The thoughts consumed him throughout the entire day. He wasn’t alone, he was owned. He was Rick’s and Rick would tell him what to do and what to say and how to act. That was comforting for someone like Daryl. After his last job, a drop-off at the airport, he went home to shower and change. He wore his only clean pair of black boxer briefs, jeans with some tears at one knee and another sleeveless shirt, plain blue.

Daryl made it to Rick's with two minutes to spare. He stood at the door waiting for the second hand, and again Rick opened the door as Daryl's finger barely brushed against the doorbell.

"Thank you for being on time," Rick said, business-like, "but I'm afraid I have a little work to finish up first. Come with me."

Daryl followed. He enjoyed following. It gave him purpose for even just a few minutes during a life that sometimes honestly seemed to have very little point.

They entered an office with two walls of floor-to-ceiling windows. Sunlight poured in, leaving not a single shadow available to shirk into and hide.

"Take off your clothes and wait for me here," Rick pointed to a spot on the floor in front of his desk. Daryl hesitantly looked towards all the bright windows but obeyed and slowly slipped off his clothing. "Do you remember how I like you to wait for me?"

"Yes, sir," Daryl said, pulling off his boxers and feeling completely on display in this sterile, overly-lit room. Rick stood and watched as Daryl lowered to his knees, spread his legs out a bit like his owner had instructed, and held his hands behind his back. He looked up at Rick for confirmation that he'd completed this request properly.

"That's a good boy," Rick said softly. "Did you do your homework?"

"Yes, sir."

"I have something that will keep you busy while I finish up a few things, ok?" Rick didn't wait for an answer but left the room, returning a few minutes later with a translucent pink dildo.

He handed it to Daryl. "While I'm working, I want you to practice ok? Try to go all the way down, practice getting a rhythm, experiment with it. Watch your teeth. Use your tongue. Ok?"

"Yes, sir." Daryl said. He loved the detailed instructions. Loved being led. Concentrating on this task would take his mind off of being so lit up and exposed.

As Rick sat behind his desk he glanced back at Daryl who already had his lips around the dildo.

"Did you touch yourself while you studied for me last night?"

Removing the object he answered, "No, sir. I obeyed you."

Rick’s face was void of emotion. "That must have been very difficult. I just popped your cherry yesterday. At your age, you had to be craving more release. How were you able to be so strong?" He cocked his head, genuinely curious.

"Duct taped my hand to the recliner, sir," Daryl answered.

Rick's eyes lit up, but he fought off his smile and remained passive. "How very industrious of you. Go on now," he said nodding at the phallus in Daryl's hand.

As the younger man concentrated on the task before him, Rick was on the computer typing away, occasionally looking over to check Daryl's progress. By 7:30, Daryl's jaw had started to ache and he felt teeth drop to the silicone twice. He was thankful it wasn't Rick in his mouth at that moment.

After a quick call to what must have been an attorney based on the words that were juggled around, Rick finally stood.

"You can stop now, Daryl," he said and reached out for the dildo. Daryl returned it drenched with saliva. "I watched a bit. Think you're getting it. Come with me."

They walked to the master that Daryl was familiar with. "I had a late lunch and missed dinner, so I'm going to fix a snack."

Daryl knelt down and got into waiting position.

"Jesus fuck, kid," the millionaire said, breathless. "You ARE a quick learner." He gazed at his sub and then said, "But your knees have to hurt. Stand."

Daryl stood. Rick pulled a pair of handcuffs out of a bureau drawer. He cuffed Daryl and the timid driver put up no fight. He just passively watched one heavy, metal bracelet click around his wrist. Rick reached up and slid the chain behind a metal hook affixed to the wall above their heads and Daryl was already reaching his hand up, practically begging to be bound. Rick affixed the other cuff and backed up to admire the beautiful body strung up in his bedroom. He dragged his eyes up from Daryl's feet to his raised and cuffed hands. "I'm happy to have you, Daryl," he whispered and walked out of the room before Daryl could reply.

After a half hour, Daryl's shoulders became sore, but he liked the pain. He didn't understand why, but Rick wanted him right where he was and Daryl so enjoyed obeying simple commands. Easy instructions. The pain in his shoulders reminded him that he was doing exactly what he was told. Doing the right thing and not having to think or worry. It was peaceful for his mind. And his body was certainly strong enough to not be bothered by the discomfort. 

He heard Rick's footsteps and the older man walked in and unlocked the cuffs. Daryl's hands fell to his sides heavier than he'd expected.

"Sore?"

"No, sir," Daryl lied.

"Daryl, when I ask you questions, I don't want you to answer them how you THINK I want them answered. I want them answered honestly," Rick paused. "Are you sore?"

"Yes, sir," Daryl answered, eyes downcast and ashamed.

"Nothing to be ashamed of," Rick said as he walked behind the younger man massaging each shoulder and his neck, all in the exact right places where it hurt the most like he somehow knew exactly how it felt.

"Better?"

"Yes, sir."

"Come down with me for a snack," Rick said as he led the way out of the room. At the kitchen table Rick had cheese cubes, grapes with fruit dip and peanut M&M's. He sat at the table and used his eyes to direct Daryl to get into position at his feet.

"Peanut M&M's?" Daryl asked.

"I like peanut M&Ms." And Rick always gets what he wants, Daryl thought.

Rick ate a cube of cheese. And cocked his head at Daryl as he chewed. "I want to feed you," he said. He reached for another cube and bent down, elbows on his knees facing Daryl. "Open," he said softly. Daryl opened his mouth and stuck out his tongue, receiving the nugget of swiss like it was the Eucharist. Rick took a grape and dabbed it into the fruit dip so that some of it got onto his fingers. He looked back at Daryl. "Open."

Daryl repeated his movement, mouth open and tongue extended. "No tongue," Rick said. Daryl pulled it back in but kept his mouth open. Rick ran the grape over his lips leaving a trail of fruit dip. Then he popped the grape into his own mouth. "Lick it off," Rick said as he chewed. The younger man obeyed, moving his tongue along his lips slowly and feeling himself grow harder. Rick switched back and forth from cheese to grapes, from eating some himself to feeding his lover. He switched methods on occasion. Holding a square of cheese in an open palm and having Daryl bow down and take it gently. He dipped a finger into the fruit dip and had Daryl suck it off. 

After a while he grabbed a handful of M&M’s and he ate them one at a time watching Daryl. "You are as fucking sweet as chocolate, Daryl," he said, reaching back into the bowl and taking a few more. He knelt down on the floor even with Daryl. "Take them," he said and put a green one on his own tongue and stuck it out for Daryl. The younger man gently tried to take it with his mouth, but without touching lips or tongue, unsure if that was allowed. Rick repeated it with the last four M&M’s one at a time. The last one he let rest on his tongue, mouth open, but not extending it towards Daryl. The younger man leaned in gently and swiped a tongue into his owner’s mouth, wrapping around the M&M and pulling it into his own mouth. When he backed away to chew it, he stayed close, just inches away from Rick.

"You have some punishment coming, I’m afraid," Rick said.

"I’m not afraid," Daryl replied. 

"I guess not. But you know I’ve decided that you’ll get 20 for the sarcastic woodchuck snark last night. Plus you get one extra for questioning my obsession with M&M’s. Do you think that’s fair?"

"Yes, sir."

"I’ll give you a choice since you’ve been so good tonight already. Do you want my hand or a paddle?" and he reached for something he must have already brought down from his bedroom. It was wooden with a sturdy handle and a wide flat surface that would surely cover his entire ass with every swat.

Daryl squirmed nervously. "I’m not good at decisions. Can you pick for me, sir?" 

Rick sat back in his chair and stared at the younger man like he was reading his thoughts, or at least trying to. 

"It’s a good thing you found me, Daryl. I love making decisions. How about we try the paddle this time and then maybe next time you can try to choose since you’ll know what both are like?"

"Ok, thank you, sir." 

"Twenty of these will sting," Rick said. "Get on your hands and knees."

Daryl obeyed, right there on the kitchen floor. Rick ran a hand over Daryl’s ass. The pink from the day before had worn off and it was pale and very much in need of color. "Will you count for me, Daryl?" 

"Yes, Master," Daryl whispered. 

"Master. I like that. Is that what you’d like to call me?" 

"Yes. Yes, Master," Daryl said.

"I know you came from this last night. But no coming. You just take this, ok?"

"Yes, Master."

"Do you remember why I am doing this?

"Yes, I asked you questions and you don’t like questions."

"Correct. Count for me, gorgeous, while I watch your ass get some color."

Rick lifted the paddle and swung hard against Daryl’s pale flesh. 

"One," Daryl said obediently. 

"Beg me for the rest, Daryl."

"Please, paddle me. I owe you twenty more, I want to give you those, please, take them from me." The young man squirmed. Daryl was desperate for it. The feel of touch, any kind of touch, was like confirmation of his own existence. It made him feel present and alive. It made him feel like he belonged to Rick.

Rick paddled into Daryl as the younger man counted off, breath out of pattern--short breaths like a soft breeze then long groaning gasps like the start of a tornado. At twenty, Daryl’s ass was a gorgeous bright red. The older man brought the bowls of food from the table to the counter and the heavy oak table was left empty. "I want to fuck you over the table. Get into position." 

Daryl moved quickly, bending over the table, hands stretched out to ready himself for the force of Rick’s thrusts. Rick took his clothes off and folded them, leaving Daryl for a moment to calmly take them upstairs. He’d come back down with lube and he used his fingers to prepare Daryl. 

"You understand the rule still stands. No coming until I command you to," Rick said as his fingers flexed and circled Daryl’s tight entrance, trailing gently across his prostate and making the young man shiver and whine.

"Yes, sir."

Rick pulled out his fingers and Daryl felt him slip in his hard, slick cock. Rick gave him a moment without movement to adjust and then fucked into him with aggression he had deep inside. He took control of Daryl’s ass and hammered into it, claiming it, owning it. His thrusts were frantic with need and desire and just plain want. Daryl gritted his teeth, letting quiet weeps fall from lips as he struggled to keep his orgasm at bay.

"Good job, gorgeous. Don’t you come. Just take it. JUST TAKE IT." Rick’s voice grew louder as his orgasm neared. Finally he pulled out with a stuttering groan, grabbed himself and came over Daryl’s strong, muscled back. He moaned through the spurts, breaths hitching with each pulse of his cock. After a moment spent regaining his composure, he asked, "You still with me, Daryl?"

"Yes, ain’t came yet, sir. Master. I’m good," he said. Rick petted his head and then let his hand drift down to the puddle of cum on his back. He rubbed it into his driver’s skin. "Gonna be sticky, but I want you to feel me on your ass and your back all day tomorrow. So no shower tonight, ok?"

"Yes, master."

Rick sat down at a kitchen chair and Daryl kept his position hunched over the table, legs shaking. "Daryl, would you like to come?"

"Yes, fuck. Please," he babbled.

"Come kneel in front of me," Rick ordered. And Daryl obeyed, moving slowly, afraid one wrong move would make him blow his load.

"You are very close, yes?"

"Yes."

Rick stretched out a leg. "You may hump yourself to orgasm on my leg," he said. And Daryl didn’t even hesitate at such a demeaning request. He greedily latched onto Rick’s leg and thrust his cock against Rick’s strong tanned calf, desperate for friction. It didn’t take long before Daryl was shooting up onto Rick’s stretched leg, panting in pleasure and relief. 

"Fucking hot," Rick whispered. "Now clean that up."

Daryl backed away and returned to his hands and knees as he softly tongued quick licks against the cum on Rick’s leg. 

"That’s it, kitten. Get it all," Rick said as he reached down and petted Daryl’s mop of thick mousy blond/brown hair. "My good little kitten." Once cleaned, Daryl leaned back in his waiting position, eyes glossy from excitement and release. 

Rick got a bottle of water from the fridge and guzzled some, still slightly out of breath. "You thirsty?" he asked.

Daryl nodded. "Yah," he panted. 

Rick cocked an eyebrow.

"Yes, master," Daryl corrected himself.

Rick got a bowl from an upper cabinet and poured the rest of the bottled water into it. He put the bowl on the floor. "Lick it. Tongue only." Daryl felt himself grow hard again already at the request. He loved to find out what new demands Rick would have for him. He didn’t expect calf-humping but damn did he love it. He’d expected to be spending the evening with his lips wrapped around Rick’s cock, but he’d never even gotten a tongue on it. So much more to do. Daryl could tell Rick was almost done with him for the night and God he hoped he’d be instructed to come back the next day. He crawled to the bowl, trying to move his body in a way that Rick might find sexy and lapped at the water gently. "That’s it, kitten," Rick praised. 

After Daryl had his fill, he sat back in position.

"You know where your clothes are. Go ahead and get dressed and come back down here to me." 

"Yes, sir," Daryl said and stood, walking to the stairs. Rick got the paperwork he’d prepared from the hall table. 

Daryl returned, hair askew and feeling absolutely wrecked. "Sit," Rick instructed and glanced to a chair he’d already pulled out. Daryl obeyed. 

"Did you enjoy yourself?"

"Yes, sir." 

"What did you like about it?"

Daryl hesitated. Always one to be nervous to use words, but this was a question from this master. He had to answer--it was expected and he wanted to be obedient. "Like doing what you want me to do. Like making you pleased when I do things right for you. I like coming. I like hearing you say that I finally can."

"You are a really good sub, my little kitten," Rick said. "But we need to switch gears for a moment before you leave." 

Rick pushed a manila envelope towards Daryl. "I have a lot of upcoming meetings, and frankly I should have done this a while ago, but using the limo service has become an inconvenience. I would like to hire you as my personal driver. The formal job offer and details are in here. You can speak freely right now. This is business, not sex. Would you be interested in leaving the limo company to come work for me?" Rick waited patiently.

"Uh, is this just to like pay me for sex or somethin’? Cause I told ya, you can have me for nuthin,’"

"No, Daryl. I need a driver. One that will be on call 24/7. When I need you to drive, you drive. When you are not on duty, that is your free time." Rick stopped and smirked. "Which, because of our arrangement, basically means that you are mine to do what I want with. Do you understand the offer?"

"Umm. The limo ain’t mine. All I have is my bike and all you have is a sports car that won’t even fit your briefcase," Daryl said.

"You are right and I’ve thought about that. As my driver, your first task would be to go out and buy me a car suitable for my travel needs."

"Um. I’d have to give two weeks to the limo service."

"You haven’t even asked the pay yet," Rick said, surprised and clearly used to negotiations with more business-savvy men.

"I trust you to be fair." Daryl said innocently.

"Well, I have ways of finding things out and I know you are making $40K a year where you are now. I’d like to offer you $75K since I’d need you to be basically at my beck and call at all hours for any unexpected travel needs that may arise."

"Um."

"You can think about it overnight and text me in the morning. If you accept, I’d like to reach out to your boss and offer to buy out your two weeks so you could start tomorrow. Would that be ok?"

"Yes, sir," Daryl said, a smile sneaking up on him.

"I’ll be looking for a text in the morning then, ok? You know where the door is, you can see yourself out."

Daryl stood, dazed, and walked towards the door, ass cheeks still stinging from the paddle and a soreness deep inside him from the violent thrusts, but damn did both feel incredibly arousing. 

"Daryl," Rick said before the younger man opened the front door. "You pleased me tonight. Thank you." And Rick turned and walked up the stairs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope those of you who liked the first installment still like it! I'd love to hear your thoughts!
> 
> P.s.- I'm on Tumblr now- TWDObsessive


	3. The Only Thing That Works For Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The chapter where they sorta kinda may have inadvertently ended up on kind of a date. But Rick still wants to make it clear that things are only physical. 
> 
> P.s. I suck at summaries.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy your daily dose of D/s smut!
> 
> Thanks to Skarlatha for beta reading to make this the best quality D/s smut possible. Everything she touches becomes markedly better!!

Daryl got off the phone with his boss at 6:30 a.m. and texted Rick. It hadn't even been a question he needed to sleep on. He wanted to be as close to this man as often as he could, in any way possible. He tapped into the phone that was still warm from the long awkward call to his boss.

_1\. I gave my two weeks._  
_2\. You can call Dale if you want to work something out with him to get me sooner._  
_3\. I want your hands on me in some way, shape or form before this day is over. How can I make that happen?_

He re-read it and hit send. Was that flirting? Was he even supposed to flirt in this kind of relationship? Should he not have sent that? Shit. He shouldn’t have sent that. It was too demanding and it was very unlike Daryl. The young driver nervously awaited a return text while he got ready for work, less the shower as instructed, planning on finishing out his two weeks unless Rick made other arrangements.

He checked his phone for a response every 30 seconds. Button up shirt, check phone. Put on tie, check phone. Brush hair, check phone. He sat alone at his kitchen table eating a strawberry pop-tart, leaning back and feeling the tacky dry cum latch onto his shirt when his phone finally chirped.

_I've made arrangements with Dale. You are all mine now. Be here as soon as you can. Work starts at 9._

Daryl slowly exhaled a nervous breath and promptly replied,

_Yes, boss._

\-----

Daryl rang the doorbell at 9 a.m. sharp and Rick answered after the ding but before the dong.

"Need a ride?" Daryl asked, trying to be coy but knowing full well it came off goofy.

"Need a car," Rick said, holding up a finger to mark one question, and he opened the door wider for Daryl to enter.

Daryl walked in, hands tucked into the front pockets of his jeans. All business, Rick said, "I called the same dealer that arranged for me to get the Ferrari and told him you’d be coming. He has all the financial information he needs. I just need you to go and pick something out. You can take the Ferrari and then have the new car delivered later today. Pick whatever you like, just need room in the back seat to work on my laptop and some kind of trunk space in case I’m traveling. Understood?"

"You ain’t trading the Ferrari in?" Daryl asked, holding up two fingers himself to help keep count. Daryl read a smile deep behind Rick’s eyes that he wouldn’t let surface. The young driver was starting to learn Rick’s face. He’d spent a lot of time watching it and wondering what was going on behind those often conflicted deep blue eyes since they'd started this unique arrangement. He did that with a lot of people. Some of his co-workers. The girl at the QuickMart register. Various policemen when he’d visit Merle. He would try to guess what they thought and how they felt since he clearly was too shy to ASK what they thought or how they felt. He liked to think that the observation alone made him a part of the world around him.

"Fuck no. We like the… I like the Ferrari," Rick said. Daryl pretended there was no slip, but the word "we" on Rick’s tongue made him feel whole. The older man handed him a business card for Milton’s Luxury Automotives and then turned on his heels, heading back to his home office.

There was no fanfare. No excitement over the new arrangement. Daryl wasn’t sure what he expected. A kiss? That was stupid. What a stupid thing to think. Handshake? Christ no. Rick’s cock had been inside him on multiple occasions in just the past week. Daryl may not have known much about social situations, but he was fairly certain they were past handshakes. Daryl shook his head to brush off his thoughts. He needed to not ever have expectations. He never had expectations before and frankly wasn’t sure where the thoughts were even coming from. But geez. Not even a pet on the head or a brush of Rick’s fingers through Daryl’s choppy hair? He chastised himself. No expectations. Just driving and sex. That was all Rick wanted so that was all Daryl wanted. That was how this worked.

Daryl slid into the Ferrari and felt that freedom and power tingling through him as he turned the key. Being alone in the car on the open road helped Daryl feel like he was part of the bigger world around him. Part of the asphalt and the trees and the smell of summer on the wind. He rolled down the windows and kept at the speed limit, but had to hold back a deep desire to open her up on the back roads. He always had to be cognizant of speed limits. Being a professional driver, he could not afford a ticket.

When he pulled into the car dealership, the owner himself was already waiting for him. Milton walked around the lot with him, pointing out different vehicles that he believed a man like Rick Grimes might like. As they walked and Daryl started taking notice to the price tags, he took a moment to text his new employer.

_Boss- How much you looking to spend?_

A quick reply flashed across his phone. 

_You are in charge, Daryl. I can afford it. Try keeping it under $500K._

Daryl's jaw dropped.

_I can get you a house AND a car for $500K._

_Just the car is fine. Don’t take too long. Lunch is at noon and when you are off the clock you are mine._

Daryl looked at his watch. 11:14. He pointed to the nearest vehicle, a 2016 silver 4-door Rolls Royce with suicide doors. "That one."

"Would you like to take it for a test drive, Mr. Dixon?" Milton asked.

"Nope. Just deliver it later today to Mr. Grimes’ house," Daryl said, and he walked with haste to the Ferrari to head back to the house. He arrived at 11:52 and rang the bell early. It took a moment for Rick to get to the door and usher Daryl inside.

"11:52 is close enough. Strip. And turn around," Rick instructed, and Daryl quickly obeyed. The older man ran a finger down Daryl's spine and felt the tacky dried cum. "You obeyed. Stayed filthy in my cum all night. Have you felt this all morning?"

"Yes, master." Filthy--another word that triggered chills though Daryl when it fell off Rick's tongue.

Rick kissed Daryl's shoulder. It was gentle and soft, and heat coursed through Daryl’s body at the brush of his owner’s lips.

"Did you feel this all morning too?" Rick asked, gripping tightly to the driver’s red ass cheeks.

"Yes, master."

"Go upstairs. We'll get you a bath now. Wait for me at the tub and I'll be up in a minute. We’ll eat lunch after."

\----- 

Once Rick had the tub filled with hot steaming water, he gently took the young man by the arm, lifting him from his standard position and helping him into the tub. Rolling up his sleeves, the businessman grabbed for a washcloth and bar of soap. "Lean forward," Rick instructed, and he cleaned off Daryl’s back first. He gently ran the soapy cloth all over Daryl’s body. Slowly. And Daryl watched Rick watching him. He tried to read what was behind his eyes. They always seemed… so torn, so conflicted. Like an inner battle was always at play. He instructed Daryl to lean back into the water to dampen his hair and then the older man massaged shampoo and conditioner and rinsed him with a cup he kept under the sink. He held a hand over Daryl’s forehead with each rinse to keep the water out of his eyes.

"Why do you like to do things like this?" Daryl asked.

"What do you mean?"

"Bathe me nicely. Feed me. Massage my shoulders. Thought I was supposed to do things for you?"

"A good Dom is supposed to treat their sub well. I want to be a good Dom," Rick explained. "Stand up." And Daryl stood, sopping wet as Rick lifted the drain in the tub and put a towel around him, patting him dry. "A good sub would usually be better at obeying the no questions rule. You are up to four now, my pet." Daryl couldn’t help but smile at the thought of stings from Rick’s hand. "I have the feeling I need to come up with a new punishment. You like it too much." Rick smiled and rubbed the towel over Daryl’s hair to dry it. The older man stood back, leaned against the double vanity and admired his property, cleaned and naked.

"Time for lunch. And I don’t have any travel needs until later this afternoon."

They went to the kitchen and Daryl knelt on the floor, still naked, enjoying his position there. Rick ate a sandwich and seemed to enjoy watching Daryl just exist in front of him. He pulled a second plate over towards him with another sandwich and pulled a piece off to hand to Daryl who took it in his mouth and chewed.

"I like feeding you," Rick said. "Like watching you eat."

Daryl cocked his head as if to ask why.

Rick answered as if it had been spoken aloud. "Don't know why. Guess I just like putting things in your mouth," he grinned.

He pulled the sandwich into bite sized pieces and put the plate on the floor next to a water bowl that was already filled. "No hands. Keep them behind your back. Go ahead and eat."

Rick sat back and admired Daryl as he leaned in and took one bite at a time, sitting up to chew and swallowing purposefully so Rick could see the food slide down the long line of his throat. When he finished, he licked at the water. Daryl was hard from being watched and admired and he noticed his cock was not the only one hard in the kitchen.

When Rick saw him looking, he unzipped his pants and pulled them off, then took off his shirt and sat naked at the kitchen table. "Suck me off," Rick demanded and Daryl crawled quickly to him, eager to obey. Daryl licked up the shaft confidently and swirled his tongue at the tip, groaning like he’d never tasted anything so sweet in his life. Rick put a gentle hand behind Daryl’s head as the young man sucked and licked, using tongue and lips and employing techniques he learned from the porno and from his time practicing on the dildo. Rick moaned and his gentle touch fisted into Daryl’s damp hair.

"Look up at me while you have my cock in your mouth," he whispered and Daryl obeyed. Rick was clearly enjoying it and Daryl was proud and eagerly worked the man’s cock over harder, going as deep as he could without choking. Groaning in delight, Rick scooted up in the chair and put a second hand into Daryl’s hair, holding him steady and fucking into his mouth. The young man moaned, low and long, from the thrill of being manhandled. "You like that? You like me fucking your mouth like this?" Rick asked in a low, thick voice.

Daryl nodded as best he could with his mouth full of Rick’s shaft. Rick started groaning, breathing heavily. "You are getting better, Daryl. Goddamn. So much better. Swallow me." And Rick held Daryl's head tight as his back arched and an animalistic growl sprung from his lips as he shot off, the driver swallowing him greedily, lapping at the cum still leaking from Rick’s spent cock.

"Jesus," Rick panted, a thoroughly sated, dazed look in his eyes. "The practice has served you well."

"Thank you, sir." Daryl said, licking his lips.

As Rick stood to zip up, the doorbell rang. "You can stay right there where you are. Be right back." Rick disappeared into the foyer and the young man, still hard, strained to hear who it was. The voices were soft, not purposefully so, but too quiet to make out. For a moment, Daryl started to panic that this visitor would be invited in and see him, but at the sound of a louder "thank you" from Rick and the door shutting and locking, that worry dissolved.

Rick re-entered the kitchen dangling a set of keys in front of Daryl. "Got me a Rolls? Huh?"

Daryl smiled and nodded, opened his mouth with the intent of a question--Did he like it? Was it here? Did he want to go for a ride? But he snapped his lips back together.

"Wanna take a test drive with me?" Rick asked, jingling the keys.

"Yes, sir!"

After Daryl dressed, they walked out to the sleek silver Rolls that was dropped off in front of the house. The driver watched Rick's expression as he circled the vehicle. "Pretty," he said, smiling at Daryl.

He opened the driver's side door for Daryl and swept his arm in an "after you" motion. Daryl slipped in and Rick went around and climbed into the passenger side, craning his neck to get a look at the back seat. "Plenty of room for me to work," then turned to his driver, "and for me to fuck you if the urge hits me on the road." He smiled.

The hard-on that had finally gone down re-emerged as Daryl turned the key.

"Where to, boss?" Daryl asked as he pressed accidentally for the non-existent clutch.

"I dunno. Just around." That was the least demanding sentence Daryl had ever heard from this man.

Daryl took them out of town on some open roads then wiggled back into the outskirts of the city. Rick played with the radio like a child pressing every button in a toy store. Finally he settled on a station and "I Want You" by Third Eye Blind surrounded them from about a hundred strategically placed speakers. It was a lulling, pretty, peaceful song.

Daryl loved driving with Rick up front where he could sneak glances at him. His master was incredibly handsome. Deep blue eyes, strong jaw, thick curls hanging just a bit below his neck. When he smiled the whole atmosphere around him changed. Daryl felt certain that when Rick would grace the world with that smile, wilted flowers would perk up and grey clouds would turn fluffy white.

"See you every time you look," Rick said, his gaze still out the window.

"Do I gotta ask permission to look?" Daryl asked with a smile in his voice.

"I like that you want to look at m--OH MY GOD--is that a self-serve Fro-Yo place?"

The excitement from his boss made Daryl slam on the brakes in reaction.

"What the hell's a self-serve Fro-Yo?"

"Find a parking spot!" Rick instructed.

Daryl understood Rick's excitement once they walked in and he figured out the concept. The older man filled the largest bowl halfway with a swirl of peanut butter and chocolate ice cream, then dumped spoonful after spoonful after spoonful of peanut M&M's on top.

Daryl followed quietly behind him. He looked over his boss's shoulder. "Did you get any ice cream in there or is it just a bucket of your M&M's?

"Did I give you permission to be a smart ass?"

"I'm totally willing to take the punishment, sir," Daryl whispered.

Rick grinned ear-to-ear, eyes swirling with want. "Yah, I guess you would be," he said and let his hand drop casually to take a quick, playful swat at Daryl’s ass.

At the register, Rick also ordered a vanilla cone. When the young kid behind the counter walked away to get it, Rick leaned over to Daryl's ear and whispered, "Want to watch you lick it while I'm eating."

And goddammit, Daryl was hard again. Christ, his cock had been at attention more in the past week than in his entire life.

They sat in the corner, Rick crunching loudly on his "ice cream" with Daryl licking and swirling his tongue around the top of the sugar cone in the most salacious way possible.

"Mmmm..." Rick murmured and Daryl wondered if the mmm'ing was from the Fro-Yo or from Daryl's tongue and the bit of melting vanilla ice cream he let purposefully drip down his chin. He'd already started learning the kinds of things Rick would like.

When the older man finished chewing a mouthful of M&M's, he glanced quickly around and then leaned over the table and licked the dripping vanilla from Daryl's smooth chin.

As they finished eating, one of the young female employees of the U-Get-Yogurt shop walked by to wipe off a table behind them. She looked over and smiled at the men. "I'm sorry, I just have to say, you two are the cutest damn couple I've ever seen."

Daryl looked to Rick, expressionless. That was not what this was. That was not what Rick wanted.

The businessman smiled curtly. "We're not..."

"Oh, Jesus. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to assume... Just thought. Crap. I talk too much. Sorry." And she all but ran to the back room.

"Let's go," Rick said, the excited little boy gone and the all-business Rick back.

Daryl opened the car door for him and they drove back home in silence.

When they got back to the house and walked inside, Rick looked sternly at Daryl. "I don't want you to have any illusions about what this isn't."

"I don't, sir."

Rick looked at his watch. "I've got a 4:00 downtown I need you to drive me to. We should leave in a bit."

"Yes, sir. In the Rolls?"

Rick nodded, his expression fighting for ambivalence, but his eyes arguing otherwise. He flicked his eyes down at his shoes. "Need my shoes cleaned first. Any suggestions?"

Daryl understood immediately. He needed to be put back in his place so Rick could relax about the awkward comment they got at the fucking yogurt place.

"I could lick them clean for you, master," Daryl responded, reaching to unknot his tie, knowing that being naked to do this would be exactly what Rick wanted.

The older man smiled. "Thank you. Yes. I think that will work."

Daryl took off his clothes slow, getting fucking hard again. He folded them and placed them on the foyer table. Took off shoes and socks and put them underneath.

He got down on all fours, so low to the ground that his chest was against the cool tile floors and he licked a strong, thick, powerful line up one side of his owner's right shoe to show that he was not regretful of his place or their arrangement. It was not lost on Daryl that Rick had looked down first to make sure his shoes weren't terribly dirty before making the request.

Daryl liked bowing down like this with his master towering over him. Bizarre, the things that had started turning him on in just a week. Did he always have these feelings, this need to be dominated, this powerful desire to be led and to obey? Or was this just because it was Rick doing the dominating? He tried to imagine someone else. Would he drop to his knees like this for Jim or Glenn at the limo company? No way in hell. He tried to think of someone he found at least visibly attractive. Abraham, the guy who'd sold him his Harley. He was fucking gorgeous. Nice guy too. Would Daryl do this for him? Was that just the kind of guy he was? Or was Rick what made him this way? He'd come to no solid conclusions by the time Rick's voice stopped him.

"Thank you. They look much better now."

Daryl sat back on his heels, knees slightly spread, arms behind his back, awaiting his next instruction. His gaze landed on Rick's bulge.

"Wait here."

Rick jogged up the stairs and returned to the foyer few minutes later. He held up a black silicone object and asked if Daryl knew what it was.

"No, sir," the young man responded.

"It's an anal plug. I want it in you for the rest of the afternoon. You'll let me do that, right?"

"Yes sir," Daryl answered, although he did wonder if that thing would even fit inside him.

Rick poured a little lube onto his fingers and put the bottle and the plug down on the foyer table.

"Stand up and bend over. Pull your ass cheeks apart so I can see what belongs to me."

Daryl obeyed, feeling a blush spread down his face from such an exposed position. He felt Rick's finger massaging his entrance. A slick finger pressed in and pumped in and out.

"Tell me you want another finger."

"I want another finger, sir."

"You forgot to say please."

"Please." And before the word was completely spoken, a second finger invaded him and a groan escaped him.

"Get down on all fours now, kitten- this is going to be a little difficult to get in. It's pretty big."

As Daryl lowered slowly, Rick stayed with him, fingers scissoring and circling inside. Rick pulled his fingers out and grabbed the lube and plug.

"I'm putting it in now, ok?"

Daryl nodded. He felt himself slowly being filled and stretched. He whined a bit when the bulbous end popped into place securely.

"And since we are down here, I think I'd like to spank you while this is inside. I'm sure I've lost track of your questions since we last settled up. And I'll be honest, I'm kind of in a mood. So I'm just gonna keep spanking you until I don't feel like doing it anymore. That ok with you?"

"Yes, master."

"No need to count. But you WILL beg me for more after every single smack."

Daryl nodded and braced himself. Rick waited a while to let the anticipation build.

"Actually, let's get out of the foyer. Stand up. Slow, remember, you’re filled up back there. Gotta get used to it."

Daryl stood awkwardly and followed Rick to the sitting room. The businessman sat in the middle of the long couch and patted his lap. "Lay across me, kitten. Ass right here."

Daryl obeyed.

"How's it feel?"

"Weird. Nice. Different."

"Ready to start begging?"

"Yes, sir. Please spank me. I need it. Want it." Daryl was already whimpering. He got a loud sharp smack and gasped at the feel of the sting and movement of the plug.

"God, more, please," Daryl begged.

Another smack.

Daryl groaned louder. Jesus, it felt so fucking good. Being spread across his owner's lap, feeling those sharp stings, feeling that fullness inside him press in at each hit, pressing against all the nice parts inside him.

"Please master, more."

And on it went, Daryl writhing and begging, cock hard, and he wanted so bad to release. Just a little friction. All he had to do was squirm a bit, but he wasn't allowed. Wasn't given permission yet.

He'd lost count of the smacks, and his words finally betrayed his obedience.

"Jesus Christ. I need to fucking come. Please, Jesus. Just say yes. Let me come." 

Rick smacked him another dozen or so times in quick succession without a word.

"Stand," Rick said and he leaned back, still fully clothed against one arm of the couch, crossing his feet and putting them up on the coffee table.

He pointed to the other arm of the couch.

"Put the throw blanket over the arm of the sofa, straddle it and ride it till you come."

Daryl followed every instruction, rutting just three times before his mouth opened to scream, but his voice was lost and no sound left his lips as his cock spewed a perfect arch of white, hot cum.

He leaned over, forehead against the sofa back, panting and gasping for breath.

He heard Rick unzip his pants.

"Daryl." Rick snapped his fingers and pointed to the floor before his feet. Daryl crawled over, dizzy from an orgasm unlike any other he's ever had.

Rick grabbed his mouth and forced it open, his other hand stroking his cock and aiming for Daryl's wide open mouth.

"You did so good for me," Rick said as his body started shaking a bit from building up. "So fucking good, taking everything I give you. Wanting it. Begging for it." He squeezed his hand tighter on Daryl's jaw. "Open. Don't you miss a drop of me."

Rick's eyes squeezed shut and he groaned, opening his eyes again in enough time to watch his cum shoot into Daryl's open mouth and waiting tongue. He let go of Daryl and the younger man swallowed. A small slither of white dripped down his chin and Rick knelt even with his pet, eyes in turmoil as always, and slowly licked the stream of cum like he did with the ice cream earlier.

Rick stood and zipped up. "Better get dressed, kitten. Can't be late for that 4:00. Remember, the plug stays in."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What is up with Rick? There's got to be more going on in that head of his, right? 
> 
> Thanks everyone for the wonderful comments you've been leaving. It certainly makes it worthwhile to do all this writing when I can see that it's being enjoyed by others!


	4. What Have I Become

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rick and Daryl take the D/s stuff up a notch and out in public to a club, but Rick is still showing signs that he's conflicted over things.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heavy D/s scene ahead. Strap yourselves in for the ride.
> 
> And as always- thanks to Skarlatha for beta reading!!

Daryl finished waxing the Ferrari. It was warm out. He was sweating and his arms were aching from waxing on and waxing off. He'd shed his sleeveless T after the first hour and he knew that Rick was likely peeking out the window from his office on occasion. For three weeks Daryl had been Rick's. He loved belonging to Rick. Loved being watched and being touched and being controlled. He loved being wanted and he loved wanting. Loved being denied until his want bubbled up into explosions that shuddered through his entire body.

He wore the anal plug often, a newer remote controlled vibrating model that stayed firmly in place. Rick liked to to go out together knowing that Daryl was stuffed full and left needy by his side. They'd go somewhere like an antique shop or an art museum just so there'd be somewhere to walk around, find quiet empty corners where Rick could select a vibrating pulse and watch Daryl just feel it. Both of them would leave hard as fuck and have clumsy backseat sex in the Rolls. Right there in whatever parking lot they were in.

Rick made it clear, always, that this was sex and lust only. Well, he made it clear with his words, but his eyes told a different story. Not a clear story. But a story that could maybe be possible. Still, Daryl was sent home every night. For all they did, they never slept together.

Since most of his waking time was spent with Rick, Daryl had barely touched a utensil. Rick was a surprisingly good cook and he continued to enjoy feeding his lover. The only meal Daryl ate alone was breakfast before he left for Rick's house. He'd never mentioned it to Rick, but he'd started breaking his pop-tarts into pieces, putting the plate on the floor and eating it piece by piece, hands behind his back, naked and on his knees, alone. It made him feel like Rick was there. He pretended that his master had demanded he eat this way and was watching him. The pulses of heat that always shot through his body from being commanded would warm him up each morning.

With the Ferrari now shining brighter than the day Rick bought it, Daryl went inside to get a shower. He was toweling off his hair as he walked into Rick's office.

Rick looked up from his computer. "Got some plans for us tonight."

"Ok," Daryl replied.

"Want to get you ready for it, though, while I finish some stuff up in here," Rick said and stood. "Come."

Daryl followed obediently.

Five minutes later, Daryl found himself cuffed up again in the master suite against the wall with his hands above his head and a bar with cuffs keeping his legs spread wide apart. The vibrating anal plug was in its place and Rick slid the remote in his pocket.

Rick had strategically selected a porno and played it on the big screen. "This will get you in the mood for tonight. This is the kind of place we are going. It's a club for our kind of thing. Won't have to hide in corners here to have our fun. Should be done with work in another hour or two. You comfy?"

"Yes, master."

Rick walked over and kissed him roughly, Daryl leaning his head in hoping for more as Rick pulled away. The older man patted at the pocket that held the vibrator remote. "I'll be thinking of you over in my office." And he left as the cheesy 70's music started.

Daryl relaxed into the position. The porn showed a sex club with men and women in all different situations, changing positions, changing partners. Some were on leashes with collars. Some had whips, nipple clamps, some shit Daryl had no idea what it even was. He felt the buzz of the vibrator all of a sudden and thrashed in his cuffs. Usually he could tell when Rick was gonna push a button. This was new, not seeing him here getting ready to do it. The vibrating stopped. Daryl was already dripping with precum.

The camera moved to another section of the club. A good looking man with strong muscles and a hairy chest sat in a chair while another man straddled him and lowered his ass onto his cock. Pfft. Pornos. That would have taken some serious finger prep. Ain't just gonna slide on like that. But it did make Daryl think about what that would be like. That was a position they hadn't... His thoughts were again interrupted with the ‘blip, blip, buzzzzz’ setting and it came right when he was mentally fucking Rick in a chair. He unconsciously let a loud "AAAAAHHHH, Jesus," escape him and he heard Rick's voice from down the hall yell. "Don't you dare cum in there, sweetness." The blip blip buzzzz continued for another full minute while Daryl whimpered and leaked more. It was impossible to shake off being so fucking turned on with the video still playing.

As one of the men in the porn fucked one man after another, Daryl started to wonder who came before him. It was the first time the young man really thought about Rick having had other sex partners. Clearly he was well-practiced. He knew what he was doing, knew what he liked and knew what he wanted. Of course, he’d had other partners. But Daryl felt a twinge of irrational jealousy. How many other men have been in these cuffs? Or worse, how few and how serious were those relationships? Did Rick love them? Did he ever love anyone or was that always one of his rules? Was he as delicate with his other partners as he had been with Daryl when he’d bathe and feed him?

Daryl wondered if he would ever be more than what he was. He wondered what it would be like to sleep in Rick's arms and to wake up in them. He sighed and focused on the porno as he waited on Rick to come get him.

\-----

Rick walked into the bedroom, smiled at Daryl as he wordlessly stripped in front of him and went into the bathroom to shower. Once out, Rick dressed as Daryl watched from his cuffs. He wore black slacks, a purple button down shirt, and shiny black shoes.

"Do I look ok?" Rick asked.

"Good enough to eat," Daryl said brazenly, still handcuffed and in the same place he was left forever ago. He had been hard and dripping with need for hours.

Rick walked over and unlocked all the cuffs and sat Daryl on the bed, massaging all the right parts. "Enjoy the movies?"

"Yah, when am I gonna get some?"

"Patience, kitten," Rick reprimanded, trying not to laugh. "That question brings your total today to five." After several minutes of Rick's strong, warm hands kneading the kinks out of Daryl's shoulders, Rick whispered, "Hands and knees, let's settle that up now. "

Daryl went to the floor and got ready. "Still no permission to come. Be strong. Hand or paddle?"

"Hand, please, master."

"Ah, very polite. Now I want you to tell me why you made that choice."

"Like feeling your skin on mine however I can get it."

Rick delivered five sharp stings as Daryl counted them out, groaning in the agony of denied orgasm with each smack. "You are so fucking good at controlling yourself. Makes it even hotter when I finally let you go," Rick said, breathless.

The businessman removed the anal plug and handed Daryl a pair of tight dark blue boxer briefs and the younger man put them on without question. Then his owner took a collar out of a box, leather, black and manly, and buckled it onto Daryl’s neck. The leather smelled expensive and the scent of it hung around him thick like fog. "You'll need to wear this so everyone knows you are already owned. Is this ok?"

Daryl nodded. "Yes, I like to be owned by you."

"This is all you'll wear. Are you ok with that?"

"Master," Daryl whispered. "This arrangement works for me because I find comfort in following your orders. If this is how you want me, this is how you'll have me."

"Jesus, fuck, Daryl. You are just goddamned perfect." Daryl smiled, proud. "There’s a dress code. Subs must be collared and naked. The boxers will have to come off when we get in, but you can wear them to drive over, ok?" Daryl was still rock hard, straining against them.

They left and Daryl drove the Ferrari in nothing but the collar and blue boxers, keeping it no more than one mile above or below the speed limit at any time. He was practically shaking in anticipation. Any nervousness about being so exposed in public now took a back seat to his desperate need to fucking come. Holy hell, Rick's denials were gonna give Daryl a goddamn aneurysm one day.

At the club, Rick introduced a leash to help them from separating. He told Daryl it was customary for subs to keep their eyes cast down and Daryl nodded and instantly obeyed as they walked in to loud music, Stabbing Westward's "Save Yourself." 

Still at the entrance, Daryl removed his boxers per Rick's direction and his owner stuffed them into one of his pockets.

From Daryl's periphery, there were all kinds of people in various states of undress just like the video had prepared him for. Some were fucking on tables, some doggie style on the floor. Some just stood by the bar with a drink and a collared and leashed sub waiting patiently below them. Even though his gaze had to remain on the floor, Daryl could feel eyes on him. On his hard cock, on his collar, on his ass. He was thankful he had to keep his eyes down. He didn't want to see anyone looking at him. For the first time since he became a new person with Rick, he longed to be invisible again.

Rick held the leash loose and led Daryl to a booth in a corner. The booth seat was only wide enough for one with room on the floor for the sub. Rick sat and Daryl went into his proper position. He kept his eyes downcast as he’d been instructed. He felt more naked than he'd ever been in his life.

He just wanted Rick. And he wanted to fucking come!

A waitress came and dropped off a menu, leaving a glass of water for Rick and a bowl of it for his sub. Rick put the bowl under the table. He spoke close to Daryl’s ear, trying to be heard over the loud base from the music. "Are you ok?"

"Yes, sir."

"Are you uncomfortable? Remember. I want truthful answers."

"Yes, sir."

"Would you like to leave?"

"No, master. I want to stay here with you. I’ll be ok."

Rick sat comfortably in his seat, petting Daryl’s head as the young man rubbed his cheek and forehead into Rick’s hand like a cat trying to scent its human.

The waitress returned and he heard Rick order for them, hand still comforting Daryl.

"Rick!" Daryl heard a female voice exclaim.

"Maggie, right?" his owner said.

"Yah. Oh my, darlin’, this is different," she said, obviously looking down at Daryl.

Daryl could feel their eyes on him. He couldn't look up to see what this Maggie looked like, but he saw an Asian man next to her on hands and knees, leashed, collared and eyes downcast.

"Haven't seen you here in a long while," she said. "Looks like things have… changed."

"Been busy," Rick answered. "Still got your same sub, I see."

The Asian crawled over to Daryl's bare feet and started licking at his toes.

Daryl had no idea how he was supposed to respond to that, and he knew neither Dom was paying attention. He leaned his head against Rick's leg trying to get guidance.

Rick brushed a hand through the younger man's hair to comfort him. "Umm, yours is licking mine," Rick said to the woman. He didn't sound as commanding as usual. Almost timid.

Maggie sighed. "Glenn, STOP IT!" she said, swatting his ass. "Sorry, promised him a reward and guess he's getting eager. Told him he could have someone tonight. He's clearly interested in your property here. Are you ok with letting them fuck? You were always ok with that kinda thing, right?"

Rick must have been used to this kind of conversation, but Daryl was blushing from head to toe. "Let me talk to my sub, first ok?" Rick said.

"Sure, we’ll be over at the bar."

Rick leaned down, elbows on his knees and lifted Daryl’s chin. After a minute he said "I kinda think it would be incredibly hot to watch you getting fucked. Really be able to see you as it's happening. But this is your decision, kitten. It's not a demand, it's a request."

Daryl kept his eyes confidently on his owner. "I want what you want, master."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, sir. I want to turn you on." Daryl did NOT want to say no. If Rick's other lovers could do it, then Daryl would too.

Rick smiled broadly and kissed Daryl’s forehead. "Such a good sub. I promise you, right after, I’ll let you orgasm. With me, ok?" he said. And Daryl nodded eagerly. Just ready to get to the end game. Rick shouted over the music, "Maggie," and he waved her over.

She sat opposite Rick with her Korean sub by her side.

Rick went into business mode. "Your sub has to wear a condom. And I want to prep mine first to get him ready."

Maggie nodded. "Fair enough," she said, pulling a Trojan out of her small clutch purse and handing it to her sub. "Glenn, you can have this boy because I know you want it. But you’ll pay for it later." She handed him the condom. "Now WAIT until Rick says you can go." The Asian whined impatiently and rested his head on Maggie's leg.

Daryl suddenly felt a little panicked, like he didn't know where to look. Then he felt Rick kneel down to the floor with him. He whispered close to his ear so he could be heard over the music. "Do you remember your safe word?" Daryl nodded. "DO you, Daryl? You've never used it. Spell it for me so I know you remember."

Daryl softly spelled it, "L-I-M-O."

"Ok, good. Good boy." He pulled out an individual packet of lube from his pocket while he kept one hand around Daryl's waist. Ripping the packet open with his teeth, Rick let Daryl go for a moment to slick up his fingers.

Aware that Glenn and Maggie and god knows who else were watching his ass get opened up, he closed his eyes pretending to be hidden like a child. "You ok, sweetheart?" Daryl nodded yes. "Up on your knees, baby," Rick said and Daryl obeyed. "This is just me ok, my fingers," he said with his other arm wrapped around his lover's waist.

Daryl felt the first finger slip in. It was familiar and nice especially with Rick's body pressed by his side and his arm around Daryl's waist. He was ok. It was ok.

After taking more time than they usually did to prepare, Rick was up to three fingers. Daryl's nerves had subsided and he was hard again. He felt ready. "This still ok?" Rick asked, only loud enough for his sub to hear over the music. Daryl nodded. "Daryl, I want to be certain you are ok with this. Tell me what is going to happen and that you are ok with it. With words." 

Rick gently slipped his arm away from Daryl's waist and tugged his chin to get eye contact. "Or you can use your safe word. And that's ok too."

Daryl bit his lip, met Rick's eyes and said, "That lady's sub is going to fuck me while you watch. I want it.... But please stay with me. Don't leave my eyes."

"My eyes aren't going anywhere, love."

Daryl felt Rick's fingers slip out of his entrance. "He can go ahead," Rick said to Maggie and he kept his eyes locked on Daryl's as he moved from the floor back up to his seat.

Daryl’s eyes remained on Rick’s, grasping onto them like a drowning man to a life preserver. Rick leaned down and petted Daryl’s hair. Whispered to him that it would be ok. He heard the condom wrapper open even over the loud bass of the music.

Suddenly the stranger was grabbing onto him. On hands and knees, Daryl steadied himself as Glenn slowly entered him, allowing Daryl time to adjust. As he felt the foreign cock slide into him he whimpered and Rick leaned down, keeping his eyes on Daryl, observing every flutter of eyelashes and grit of teeth.

"That’s a good boy. You're so fucking beautiful," he said, petting his lover's head. Daryl’s eyes were huge orbs, tears leaking and Rick was clearly tortured about whether or not he was enjoying what he was putting Daryl through.

The Asian had started pumping in and out. Daryl was hopeful that Rick was happy with his obedience because he did not enjoy this stranger in him. His eyes begged Rick for any kind of reaction, to know he was doing this to please his owner. Rick seemed to read the desperate plea in his eyes, because he unzipped his fly and started stroking himself as he held Daryl’s eyes, and the young man instantly calmed. As Daryl’s mere existence pleased two men, one from in front and one from behind, he felt worthy. He felt needed. Dirty as fuck. But needed, especially from Rick. He desperately wanted Rick to need him.

As Glenn's thrusts grew faster and he groaned out release, Rick came hard onto Daryl’s gorgeous face. The Asian pulled out and Maggie stood to leave. "Thank you, Rick. This was a reward for him. Much appreciated." Rick nodded, out of breath and spent. He leaned down to Daryl.

"Get up to your knees, closer to me." Daryl obeyed and Rick rubbed his face against Daryl’s, caking them both in sticky cum. The younger man had no idea why. With their foreheads touching, Rick said, "Let’s go wash up and go home. I decided I really don’t like sharing you."

"Yes, master," Daryl said. They walked, Rick in front and Daryl trailing with downcast eyes to the bathroom. Inside and alone with the floor-thudding beat of the music subsiding once the bathroom door clicked shut, Rick pulled and dampened some paper towels and wiped off Daryl’s face. "Can’t believe you did all this. I know you didn’t like it," Rick said, as he wet more towels and wiped his own face.

"I like you," Daryl said. "And I know how to get what I want."

Rick looked at him, his mouth twitched as if fighting a smile, and his eyes softened. He turned and led Daryl by the leash out the door.

They stopped by the booth where their meals had already been dropped off. Rick took out a hundred dollar bill and left it on the table and then continued with Daryl on his leash to the front doors. Rick started leading Daryl through the parking lot.

The young man was barefoot and still naked, the dark blue boxer briefs Rick had given him still tucked in to his master's front pocket. Daryl's hard, uncared-for erection was painfully uncomfortable.

At their car, Rick leaned against the driver’s side door and motioned with his hands for Daryl to turn and lean against him. Daryl's back pressed into Rick's chest and it made the young man's blood pump louder in his ears. Rick slipped an arm around Daryl's waist.

"You were so good for me tonight. You've been without an orgasm all fucking day and you deserve to get one." The businessman used his other hand to unbuckle the collar and he let it and the leash drop to the ground. He put an open palm in front of Daryl's mouth. "Spit."

After Daryl obeyed, he felt Rick's hand sliding against his hard cock. He moaned and his head fell back onto Rick's shoulder behind him. He was thankful the man was practically holding him up. This wouldn't take long. Rick's hand was heaven, warm and familiar against the younger man's cock. Daryl unconsciously started rocking his hips. His owner’s warm body was pressed tight against Daryl's back, and his arm was wrapped tight around his waist. And Rick's hot mouth and tongue latched on to Daryl's neck, sucking and biting while his hand moved fast then slow, then focused just on the tip, then stroked Daryl's whole length. Rick grabbed a chunk of Daryl's flesh in his teeth and started biting slowly, harder and harder.

Daryl heard himself gasp and words spilled uncontrolled from his trembling lips, "Rick, Jesus. Bite me, break the skin. God, I love you to be on me, your hand prints on my ass, your cum on my back. Break the skin, mark me with your mouth." Daryl was such a volcano of feelings he barely registered using Rick's first name, which he'd never done like this. He didn't recognize that his words were demands until they'd escaped him and he worried that Rick would stop everything as punishment, but before he could even start fretting about the possibility, he felt his master's teeth loosen then snap closed around his flesh and he pulled and tugged at it, growling as his hand flew frantic over Daryl's cock and the young man came with a fury of streaming cum and a loud groan that echoed through the parking lot around them.

Once silent except for his pounding heart and heavy breathing, Daryl felt drops of blood slowly trailing down his back as Rick sucked and licked gently at the wound.

"I'm sorry," Daryl whispered between gasps. "It's not my place to demand. I'm sorry, master."

Rick's arm was still around his waist holding him close as he continued sucking at the wound. "Daryl, that was fucking hot. I don't mind you talking like that." He held the hand he'd used to stroke his property to explosive orgasm up to Daryl's mouth. "Clean me up, kitten," he said, and Daryl licked up the mess on Rick's hand while his owner continued licking the trails of blood off his back from the bite, grooming each other like animals.

\-----

Once back home, Rick was leaning against a wall in the foyer when Daryl returned dressed and ready to leave. The young man hesitated at the door.

"You want me to kiss you before you go?" Rick asked quietly in his gentle voice.

Daryl nodded and kept his eyes cast down.

Rick walked over to him and took his head gently in his hands and pressed his lips to Daryl's. Their lips were soft against each other and both men moved them slow, with little gentle licks into slightly opened mouths.

"I'm sorry about tonight," Rick said, pressing his forehead to Daryl's and brushing fingers in his hair.

"Ain't got nuthin' to be sorry for."

"That thing with Glenn. That's not the way I want to operate." Rick backed away. "I'm an asshole, Daryl. You need to remember that. I told you I was selfish. It's worse than you think. I'm doing the worst thing to you. I'm going to break your heart."

"I know you said not to love. I ain't forgot. I know you won't love me back. It's ok. I just like making you happy as long as you'll let me."

"Why?"

"Cause normally, you don't seem happy."

"I'm rich. I can get anything I want, even people. I got you. What makes you think I'm not happy?"

"It's in your eyes, sir."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you guys will take a moment to post comments/feedback whether they are positive or negative. I love reading your thoughts!


	5. Give Me Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daryl is in love with Rick. But that wasn't the arrangement. What happens now?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Caution- drama, angst and plot development ahead!
> 
> Also this is the part where I talk about how awesome Skarlatha is for being my beta reader and talking me through the outline of this story! She's been invaluable and she's also a damn fine writer. While you are waiting for the next chapter... Check out some of her fics. I highly recommend Kneeling Before the King and especially Shadows Where I Stand (a full-length Rickyl fic that I guarantee you will LOOOVE!)

Daryl waited at the top level of a parking deck in the Rolls. It was nice up there. The sky was above him even though it was hinting at rain. There was a nice breeze. And there was as good a view as you could get in the middle of the city.

He was in love with Rick. He really was. He googled it. This was love. All the symptoms were present--strong affection and attraction, the desire to please, the personal attachment, the emotional connection. There was also commitment. Their arrangement was exclusive. They hadn't gone back to that sex club. Daryl was Rick’s only. And Rick was Daryl’s. They’d been "involved" now for almost three months and that was three months longer than Daryl had ever been involved with anyone. His mind never stopped thinking about Rick. His body never stopped wanting Rick’s touch. His eyes never wanted to be without Rick in his sights. He even called him Rick now, not Mr. Grimes. Sir or Master was usually used in the bedroom, but sometimes Rick, too. And that had to mean something. 

Rick had made it clear that love was not part of the arrangement, so Daryl never mentioned it. But he knew it was probably evident in his eyes. And he felt certain it was in Rick's too.

He drove when Rick needed to be driven. He gave Rick full use of his body whenever he was off duty. He went home to his own house each night even though he wanted so badly to stay by Rick's side and Rick looked at him with regret and sadness every time the driver would be dismissed for the evening. Always conflicted. Always a balancing act of mixed signals. 

When Daryl wasn't driving or washing and waxing the cars or handling their maintenance, he was allowed to stay on the property and do what he wanted while he was on call. Naked, of course, because that's how Rick liked him. The young man had gotten more bold about his wants and needs and as long as they were physical or sexual, Rick was usually ok with them.

Recently Daryl had started choosing to curl up under his master's desk at Rick's feet to nap while the businessman worked. The young driver knew his master liked this because when he would sigh heavily with disappointment over an e-mail or a report, he'd lean down and brush fingers through the young man's hair and Daryl could tell it would ease the stress.

In August, Rick's travel picked up significantly. There were lots of trips to the city. Lots of waiting around until he was done. They were all-day events that Rick would come back from slumped over and reeling with a defeat that he wouldn't talk about. Daryl never talked to Rick about business. It was just not something that was part of their arrangement, but he’d starting wishing he could be a sounding board for him. He seemed so stressed. Unhappy with the progress of things. Daryl figured it was some kind of financial issue because other than making money, he really didn’t understand what Rick’s job was. The only thing he could think of that would cause those slumped shoulders and the empty eyes of defeat would be losing money. 

Daryl continued to sense Rick's mood from his expressions and his movements. He'd been depressed and Daryl was more eager than ever to be everything he could for this man.

After four hours of waiting, Daryl heard Rick's footsteps.

"Hey, boss. Why didn't you text? You didn't have to walk all the way up here," the driver said.

"Wanted a walk," he said, handing his briefcase to Daryl. The driver put it in the car and went to the other side to open the back seat for Rick.

The despondent businessman was leaning against the car looking out over the city.

"Rick, Something's wrong." It wasn't a question, it was an observation.

"S'ok," Rick replied.

Daryl moved in close and pressed his body to his master's. "Let me do something for you," the driver said softly.

Rick put arms around him and held him tight for a few moments before turning them roughly so Daryl was the one pressed against the door. Rick kissed him. And Daryl didn't care what this man said, this kiss was love. And Daryl's heart thudded with the pleasure of being against soft lips and a hard body. But he felt an emptiness in him. Like sympathy pains for Rick's sadness.

Both in suits and with a total disregard for any possible passers-by, their kisses grew desperate and deep like the very answers to life itself could be found in each other's warm mouths. Rick moved his hips, grinding against the younger man, both hard, friction working its magic.

"Daryl, I can't do this to you. I’m not a good person," Rick panted.

"You can do anything to me. Tell me what you need. I’d do anything for you."

Rick was gasping and grinding and gripping tight to his lover, keeping his face close even when they had to break their lips apart for breath.

Their movements were fluid and their hands grabbed on to biceps and hips and hair. Their breaths became urgent. "You can come, Daryl. Come with me." And both their bodies moved together like a single slender tree branch gracefully dancing in the wind.

They came simultaneously while their mouths were still connected, gasping into each other.

When they broke apart, Rick had tears in his eyes.

"You're scaring me, Rick."

"Just a headache. Let's go home, ok?" 

Daryl slowly opened the door, keeping a concerned eye on his lover as he slid into the seat and dropped his head to his hands.

Back on Lexington Avenue, Daryl followed his master into the house, carrying his briefcase and the suit jacket he'd shed in the car. He put things where he knew they belonged, suit jacket in the master closet, briefcase on a table in the office.

He found Rick curled up in the bed.

"Got some Tylenol and water for you," he said, sitting them down on the nightstand and he sat himself on the edge of the bed.

Rick sat up, eyes puffy, face flushed.

"Daryl," he whispered. "I'm sorry, but this can't work anymore."

"What can't?" Daryl asked innocently, not yet understanding what a break-up sounded like since he’d never had one. 

"Dale said he'd take you back in a heartbeat. I think it's best if you returned to him. This... with us. It has to be over, ok?"

"No," Daryl said flatly. "I'm yours. You can't throw me away. Please." He remained sitting on the bed although Rick’s eyes were clearly trying to dismiss him. "Is it like bad business stuff? I can sell the cars, get you something cheaper, take a pay cut."

Rick's body tensed, his eyes squeezed shut and he pulled at his thick curls in frustration. Then he yelled. Real honest-to-god yelling, "DARYL! Get out! Go home! Go home and hate me for being a fucking dick and get over this."

He got out of bed and dragged Daryl to the front door with a tight bruising grip on his arm. "Go!" And the door slammed behind him.

Daryl stood staring at the door. He would be completely lost without Rick. He didn't want to go back to his old life, ghosting through the world alone, no one noticing him, touching him, talking to him. Losing Rick would be like losing a leg or an arm. This man was part of him now. Made him real. Made him alive.

The young man stood still almost like he was physically restrained. And God how he wanted that now, to be handcuffed to Rick's wall, comfortable under his master's gaze.

Something had to be wrong. Really wrong. Daryl had forgotten to tell him that he would be here for anything. If Rick lost every dime, he could stay at Daryl's. He'd have to get used to PB&J and pop-tarts, but he could stay and he could still have complete control of Daryl.

Or maybe it wasn't money related? Had he started seeing someone else? Was he feeling guilty over taking another lover? Was another man going to be strung up in his handcuffs and fed by hand and petted and fucked and kissed by the man who would own him forever whether or not he ever saw him again? Daryl had a right to know. He was becoming angry, an emotion he had very little experience with, and the sadness deep in his belly turned hard like a heavy stone.

A rain shower came and went as Daryl stood expressionless at the door. After several hours without so much as a footstep in either direction, Daryl decided he was going to get some fucking answers. He tried the door. It was locked, but Daryl realized the car keys were still in his pocket and the house key was on there. Before he got too bold, he rang the bell. Then knocked. Then knocked again. Then rang.

"Fuck you, Rick!" he yelled. "I'm coming in. You owe me answers. I deserve answers, goddammit!" And he unlocked the door and walked in, quieting himself, trying to listen for Rick. He heard a soft thudding in the kitchen and walked with purpose.

When he turned the corner, he paled. He ran to his master and tried to steady him. Rick lay on the floor, seizing, frothing at the mouth, his body wracking uncontrollably. Blood dripped from a wound in his hair that he had probably gotten from the fall.

Daryl's cell was out. 9-1-1. The beeps from the number echoed eerily through the kitchen.

"911, what's your emergency?"

"I need help."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OMG... What the hell, right? Lots of emotional development, plot development and LOTS more smut to come. I'd love to hear everyone's thoughts if you have time to comment. Thanks so much for all the wonderful comments so far!!


	6. Let You Down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daryl waits at the hospital for Rick. Rick finally makes a confession.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise! Two chapters in one 24-hour period! Hate to leave the cliffhanger for too long. 
> 
> Thanks as always to Skarlatha. You guys know she rocks, right?

Daryl paced in the waiting room, looking every bit as disheveled as he felt. He was still in his suit, less the jacket and the tie. The white button-up was partially untucked. One pant leg was soaking wet up to the middle of his calf from a puddle he ran through after ten minutes of driving in circles around the hospital to find a parking spot. His hair was sticking every which way from the rain and the repetition of running his hands through it every time he looked at the clock.

He went to the nurses’ station on the hour, every hour, meek and polite, asking if he could see Mr. Grimes yet. Wanting to know if they could tell him anything. Although the woman behind the counter with short grey hair seemed to empathize with Daryl, she simply didn't have information.

Six hours in, and his sixth visit to Carol, according to her name tag, Daryl finally got some news.

"He's awake, Mr. Dixon." She smiled.

"Can I go in there? Can I see him."

"I'm so sorry, sweetheart. He said he doesn't want visitors right yet."

"Does he know I'm here?"

"He does. He's probably just feeling a little out of sorts." She put a hand on Daryl's and continued, "I'm sure he'll come around."

On his fourteenth trip to the nurses’ station the shift had changed and he asked a young brunette named Tara if she would deliver a gift. He put a heavy crystal vase on the counter filled with peanut M&M's and a balloon on a stick with a picture of a kitten that said "hang in there."

"Not supposed to bring stuff back in the ICU," she said. 

Daryl looked heartbroken and ran his hands back through his hair. "Can ya ask again at least? If I can see him?"

Tara looked at him with sympathy, picked up the vase and walked back through the doors.

Daryl paced. When Tara returned, he moved quickly to her, looking expectantly for an answer.

"Sorry hon. Wants to be alone." She turned to leave but then looked back. "He did smile at your gift, though. Maybe another hour?"

Daryl nodded and went back to the waiting room. He read a People magazine from 2002. Angelina Jolie and Billy Bob Thornton. Almost forgot about that. He tossed the magazine on one of the empty seats and sat in the hard plastic chair with his head in his hands blocking out all the noise around him except the ticking of his watch.

At the next hour he went up to the nurses’ station. He looked at Tara with sad eyes and a wordless question. 

"I'll check, hon," she said affectionately and disappeared behind a trail of squeaky shoes on polished hospital tile. A few moments later she returned with a smile.

"Wore him down, sweetie. Go on back, room 203, down to the right."

Daryl stood confused for a moment. It had been 15 hours and finally… he walked quickly down the hall after Tara swiped her badge for the door to open.

He knocked on 203 and entered slowly. Rick was in bed, hooked up to an IV, hair damp and skin pale against a blue and green plaid hospital gown.

"Thought I told you to go home," he said weakly.

Daryl sat gently on the edge of the bed and slowly reached for Rick's sweat-soaked curls like they were delicate antiques he didn't want to risk breaking.

"What happened? Was it a seizure? You gonna be ok?" Daryl asked softly. The look in Rick's eyes told him more than he needed to know. This wasn't something small. Tears streamed from Daryl's eyes like melted ice cream dripping down the sides of a sugar cone on a hot summer day.

"Please don't cry, kitten," Rick said softly and reached out to touch his lover's thigh. "I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry I did this to you."

"What? What are you doing to me?" Daryl asked, big, concerned eyes still spilling tears under eyebrows that were furrowed in utter confusion.

"We just can’t… continue, Daryl. This needs to be over for your sake."

"I want to know why," he demanded in his meek soft-spoken way, sniffling and fisting his hands at his eyes so he could see without the blur of overwhelming sadness.

"I'm dying."

"No," Daryl said as if he was refusing it. As if he was saying no at a restaurant when someone asked if he wanted pepper on his salad. As if he could win an argument.

"It's a brain tumor. Extremely difficult to operate on. Not very good chances. I've known for a year and I was selfish. I just wanted to enjoy what little time I had left and I took you. I could have spared you this heartbreak if I'd have just stayed alone and died alone." 

"Jesus. What about chemo? Are you getting treatments? Is it--" 

"It’s benign. Not cancer. But it’s big and it’s growing and it’s in the way. It’s going to kill me if they don’t operate. And if they do operate… it will likely still kill me."

Daryl shook his head, "What are the... chances?"

"85%."

"That ain't bad, Rick. That's good! When can they operate?" Daryl asked, feeling like maybe all this could be fixed. Could be over. 

"85% fatality rate," Rick said, like it’s a statistic in his head that he’s thought of a million times, that he’s intimately memorized.

Daryl was quiet. Beeps from one of the machines in the room blipped out harsher against the silence.

"And if I do survive, there's a strong chance I'll end up blind or unable to walk or talk, could have amnesia or wind up a complete vegetable. There's no way for them to know."

Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.

"Well," Daryl said, wiping his sleeve against accumulated tears and snot, "I could be your seeing-eye person, or push your wheelchair or--"

"I just wanted sex, Daryl. I wanted to feel something physical and nice before it was all over. I didn't want to have to be in love. It's harder to die when you're in love."

Neither spoke. Rick held on to Daryl's hand and rubbed his thumb gently over his lover’s knuckles.

"Rather have only had you for three months and spend the rest of my life mourning you than never to have you at all," Daryl said unblinkingly.

"I'm so sorry, Daryl." Pity was in Rick’s eyes even though he was the one who might be dying.

"When is the surgery?" Daryl asked quietly.

Rick sighed heavily and looked past Daryl to the door, clearly hoping for some kind of interruption. When none came, he answered, "Haven't decided yet if I want to have it."

"Why the fuck wouldn't you?" Daryl asked in a louder-than-normal-for-Daryl voice, his exasperation made clear by the way his face asked the question in its expression as his mouth translated it into words.

"Do you have any idea how many questions you are up to right now?" Rick smiled, trying to change the subject.

Daryl's expression stayed firm and he waited still for his answer. Letting the beeps fill the air, rushed voices and the roll of gurneys slipping in from the hall.

Rick took a deep breath and sighed heavily. "I don't want to live… if I'm broken. I was just planning on riding out the tumor till it grew big enough to kill me."

"When did you decide that?"

"After my ex left me and I was alone," Rick said, sadness flashing through his eyes just briefly like an unexpected splash of heat lightning in the night sky.

"Well, you ain't alone now, so you ain't got the luxury of just laying down and dying," Daryl whispered, still wearing the fear and sadness in the way his eyebrows drew in and the lingering glisten in his eyes.

"I know," he said and pensively looked over at the vase on the bedside stand. He smiled. "Liked your gift, kitten."

"Get the surgery, Rick," Daryl said firmly, as if it would be the only sentence he would say until someone cut that fucking tumor out of his lover’s beautiful damn head.

"Don't know if I can get right with the possibility of being an invalid," he said without meeting Daryl’s eyes.

"You know how to get what you want, Rick. Do you want to die?" Daryl asked with a new confidence.

"No, but I don’t want to be brain damaged or in a coma," Rick said combatively, clearly trying to explain the gravity of how this could affect him.

"Do you want to leave me? Do you want to die and leave me here all by myself?" Daryl’s eyes started leaking again.

"No," Rick answered simply. 

"Then try. A good Dom wouldn’t die on their sub," Daryl answered harshly, not sure if that was really a rule of the D/s lifestyle or not but deciding it was going to be a rule of their D/s lifestyle. 

"I’ll think about it, Daryl," Rick relented. "I didn’t want this to get so complicated. Didn’t want to have to DO things for anyone that I didn’t want to do."

"You mean like live?" Daryl asked smugly.

"Don’t be mad at me," Rick said, tilting his head and giving Daryl that affectionate gaze that no longer had any hint of conflict in them. It was nothing but love.

"Don’t die," Daryl said softly as if it were as simple a choice as that.

Rick took another deep breath and let out a long anguished sigh. "The specialist will be here at 7 a.m. Few more hours. When was the last time you slept?" Rick said, brushing his thumb over Daryl's lips.

"Been busy waiting fifteen fucking hours for you to decide to let me in here, dick."

"Was hoping you'd just give up on me and go home," Rick replied.

"Is that really what you wanted?" Daryl asked, confident of the answer.

"No, just thought it would be easier on you to not have to deal with this."

"I’ve been in love with you for months. I would never walk away from you like this," Daryl said slowly and clearly so Rick heard and understood every single word.

Rick scooted over to make room in the narrow hospital bed for Daryl to lay with him, and the younger man curled into him. "Sleep. That's an order."

They kept each other's gaze, Rick running fingers through Daryl's tangled hair, until the younger man finally closed his eyes and breathed the long slow breaths of sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SOOOO... Technically I guess it's yet another cliffhanger. But at least now you know what's going on.


	7. One More Shot At Living

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Can Daryl convince Rick to get the surgery? Let's find out!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry gang- this is a short chapter. But the next couple are REALLLLY good! I promise!!
> 
> Thanks to skarlatha for all the stuff she does, which is seriously a LOT of stuff! I'm a sloppy writer, folks. She has a hard job being my beta!!

Daryl woke to the echoing beep of Rick's heart monitor and the feel of his master's hands threading through his hair.

"Mornin' kitten,"' Rick said in a gruff morning voice. "Doctor will be here in a few minutes."

Daryl got up, letting reality replace the pleasant dream he'd been having of Rick covering his body with bites and kisses outside in lush green grass. The faint scent of that imagined summer day was quickly replaced with the bleach-clean, sterile smell of hospital.

He was sore from holding the awkward position in the small single bed. Tugging at his bulging jeans, he walked wordlessly to the bathroom.

"Dreaming about me?" Rick asked grinning.

Daryl just grunted and nodded. He was not a morning person, but Rick wouldn't know that since they'd yet to wake up together.

After taking a much-needed piss and washing off his face in cold water he looked in the mirror to pep-talk himself. Be strong for Rick. Do not fucking cry like a baby today. He heard the door to the hospital room open and quickly went back out to Rick so he wouldn't miss anything.

An older man with long white hair and a white doctor's coat had Rick's files in his hand. He was shaking his head as he flipped through pages.

"Rick," the doctor said in a soft, familiar and sympathetic greeting. Then he looked at Daryl and reached out a hand. "Dr. Greene," he said.

"Daryl."

"You a relative, son?

Daryl started biting on a thumbnail as he looked to Rick for guidance.

"No," Rick said as he pushed himself into a seated position. "He's... he's my... Fuck it, he's my boyfriend."

Dr. Greene didn't seem to react too judgmentally. He just looked back to Rick. "Thought you had no connections. Does this mean you're going to consider the surgery now?"

"Yes, he is," Daryl said firmly, moving towards the bed.

"You don't speak for me, Daryl," Rick snapped.

The younger man stopped in his tracks and slowly pulled a chair up to Rick's side. He folded his arms on the edge of the bed and rested his head so that his eyes looked down at the polished white floor, trying to submit apologetically without it appearing too terribly awkward to the surgeon. He actually considered praying while he waited to hear Rick's answer.

"How much longer if I don't?" Rick asked quietly.

Daryl felt the doctor lean against the bed and heard the file snap shut.

"The scans show it's almost doubled in size since last year. That seizure you had is likely the beginning of the end. You will start having them more frequently until one kills you. Probably two months at best."

Silence. For the most part, anyway. Daryl wanted to take that haunting beep machine and hurl it out the fucking window. Every moment of silence in that fucking hospital room was stabbed and splattered with that incessant auditory reminder of a heart that's beating but could cease at any moment.

He felt Rick's hand in his hair, petting him, forgiving him for his brazen demands and comforting him. Daryl wanted to memorize that moment, concentrating on what Rick's long fingers felt like as they stroked his head. Trying to etch every touch into his brain so he could replay it over and over whenever he wanted.

"When could we schedule it?" Rick sighed.

Daryl froze. He didn't want his reaction to change Rick's decision in any way. He didn't breathe. He didn't look up. He didn't speak.

Dr. Greene picked up the chart and flipped through it again. Rick's voice whispered closer to Daryl, "Breathe."

The doctor walked to the computer station in the room. "Think I've got Friday open. I'll check."

"This Friday? Like two days?" Rick asked with a hint of fear finally burrowing into his voice.

"Yes, Rick. It's time."

Daryl finally looked up. "How long is the surgery gonna take?" he asked softly.

"About 10 hours. But once we get in there it may be longer."

"Where? At this hospital?" the young man asked more sternly.

The doctor nodded.

"Is this the best place? Are you the one who will do the surgery? Daryl sat back in his chair and tilted his head waiting for an answer.

Dr. Greene nodded and smiled. "It is the best place and I am the best surgeon. Mr. Grimes came to the best from the get-go."

"How many of these kind of surgeries have you done?"

Rick watched Daryl pepper the doctor with questions like he was interviewing the man for a job, a look of amazement on his face. "Guess you can be pretty aggressive when you want to be," he murmured to his lover with a weak smile.

Daryl looked at him, eyes overflowing with love and just nodded. "When it’s important," he whispered back.

"For a more complex brain tumor like this one?" Dr. Greene thought for a moment. "Ten."

"How many of them lived?" Daryl asked, his voice losing its strong disguise and cracking on the last word.

The doctor thought again. "Three."

Rick finally jumped in. "Any of those three come out of surgery without any lasting damage?"

Dr. Greene nodded. "One. I'm due for another success."

"I'm not staying in here waiting for two days. Can I go home ‘til Friday?" Rick asked in a way that basically meant he was leaving and he'd come back on Friday.

"Well, I wouldn't recommend it, Rick but I've known you for a while now and I know you are going to do what you want." The doctor turned to Daryl, "Son, you'll want to stay by his side 24/7. If he has another seizure call 911 just like you did."

Daryl nodded, "Yes,sir."

"I'll have the nurse come in to discharge you and I'll see you at 5 a.m. Friday morning," he said and left the two men alone.

Daryl crawled back into the bed and tucked his head under Rick's chin. "Thank you."

The older man ran a gentle hand down his lover’s back and sighed. "48 hours with you. Hope you’re ready for a long two days," Rick whispered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... 48 hours. I wonder what they'll do?


	8. Let Me Give You My Life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first 24 hours of everything Rick wants.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not gonna lie- I kinda actually love this chapter. Hope you guys do too.
> 
> Thanks to my beta reader Skarlatha. I'm now adding "music counselor" to my long list of things that make her awesome! Not only is she a great editor, but she has outstanding taste in music!

Rick was unbearable while they waited to be discharged. He tried to pull out the IV himself and Daryl swatted at him. It caused a brief stand-off between two pairs of stubborn, determined and tired blue eyes. But Rick blinked first when he decided to start peeling off the heart monitors instead. That move actually did help, because the sudden flat-line beep had several nurses arriving at once. Carol, from the day before, finally set the discharge paperwork in motion and removed the IV, then left them alone again.

"Stop pacing, Rick. You're driving me nuts," Daryl said as he sat on the bed, brow furrowed, still processing everything that had happened in the past 24 hours, not even enjoying the brief glimpses of his master’s ass as the hospital gown flowed back and forth with his movements. 

"I can do what I want," Rick responded matter-of-factly. "When is she gonna find my damn clothes?"

"She'll find them," he responded, but the pacing continued. Daryl sighed. He hopped off the bed and snatched a notepad and pen from the computer station and shoved them at Rick. "Here. Start making a list of what you want to do over the next 48 hours."

"You're getting really fucking bossy," Rick said, with a sudden levity in his voice and a smirk creeping into his lips.

"Sorry, master," Daryl said and looked down.

"S'ok," Rick patted Daryl's knee and pressed a soft kiss to his forehead, lips lingering and making Daryl wonder what he was thinking about. The distraction seemed to work, though, and Rick climbed back onto the bed, sat Indian-style and started scribbling. It was quiet in the room without the beep. Just the sound of pen to paper.

Daryl felt another shift in his life. Before yesterday, his life was two-part. There was before meeting Rick and after meeting Rick. And they were completely different lives. Daryl was still Daryl, but it was as if, after Rick came into his life, he learned how to BE Daryl. How to be someone in the world. How to talk and listen. How to feel and want and need.

And now there was a new break in time. There would be before he knew about the tumor and after he knew. And he would not think about it yet. He promised himself he'd wallow in self pity during the surgery but NOT waste their little time thinking about it. He would not wonder how much time. He would not think about 85%. He couldn't. He had to be here and now for this man who had quickly become his everything. 

Rick rubbed at his tired eyes and looked at Daryl. "Finished my list."

Daryl reached out for it. "Lemme see."

Rick handed it to him and moved over on the bed, tight against Daryl’s thigh.

"What to do while I’m Walking Dead," Daryl read. "Well, I’m not in love with the title." He rolled his eyes at Rick. "A little optimism isn't gonna kill..." Daryl stopped the sentence early and looked back to the list to continue. 

"I want to be angry. I want to break dishes. I want to eat at McDonald’s. I want to feed Daryl at McDonald’s." Daryl arched a brow at Rick.

"Well, I don’t wanna go by myself," the once-hardened businessman whined.

Daryl returned to the list, "I want to fuck Daryl over the hood of the Ferrari. I want to watch Daryl sit naked on his bike… in broad daylight… grinding himself on it until he comes." The young man paused, looked at Rick and grinned. "Hmm… Well, I like where you’re going with some of these." Rick giggled. A sound from him that likely no one had ever heard.

"I want to buy Daryl a kitten?" Another lifted brow.

Rick shrugged his shoulders. "I think you need one. You just seem like a cat guy."

Daryl shifted his eyes back to the list. "I want to nibble on every square inch of Daryl." Without even taking his eyes off the page, he lifted his arm over to Rick. "Go ahead. We can start knocking that one out now. Long list. Not much time." He felt Rick start nibbling on his wrist and felt the vibration of his "mmmm" as he did it. "I want to spank Daryl and listen to him begging me for more." Daryl stopped again. "Well, that’s nothing new."

"No, but I like to," Rick said as his nibbles reached the crook of Daryl’s arm. Then Daryl giggled.

"That tickles."

"Finish the list," Rick murmured as he sucked on Daryl’s bicep.

"I want to sleep with Daryl and cuddle." Daryl’s heart swelled and he swallowed hard, trying not to let himself get upset at the thought of every day he’s taken breath that he hasn’t spent sleeping and cuddling with Rick. Rick was up to his neck kissing and licking.

"Liked watching you sleep in my arms last night," he muttered, then bit and tugged at Daryl’s skin as the young man leaned his head, letting Rick nuzzle into the crook as he stood and moved into the space between Daryl's legs.

"This next one just says ‘I heart Daryl’."

"Oh yah, that’s cause I heart you," Rick moved to his ear lobe.

"Christ, you really know how to do a 180 from ‘This is just about sex’ to ‘school-boy crush’," Daryl said with a smile, trying to act casual about this feeling of being in someone’s heart. It was an act, and Rick probably knew it. Daryl hadn't realized how desperately he wanted this. Rick's whole heart.

"Not a crush. I love you. Just tried not to," Rick said between nibbles.

The sound of the words in Rick’s voice spilling into the air wrapped around him made him feel warm. Daryl’s chest felt like a helium balloon bobbing happily, reaching to the sky, only tethered to earth by a string. He loved Rick and he’d wanted Rick to love him back, but never imagined what the words would sound like dancing into the air like a song you realize you are crazy about the very first time you hear it. Daryl looked back to the paper. "I want to cry. And I want to do something Daryl wants to do." And it felt like scissors had cut against the string and the floating balloon was disappearing from him. 48 hours. Rick’s nibbles continued across Daryl’s chin, a pause to kiss deep and slow on the mouth and then trailed off to the other ear.

Carol came in with a hand full of familiar clothes. "Guess what I found in a room down the hall, Mr. Grimes?" Rick still had an earlobe between his teeth. Daryl looked up from his list. "Is he on drugs?"

"We gave him some Tylenol with codeine for his headache while you were asleep… which you really shouldn't be, the beds are for patients," she whispered to Daryl.

As she put down the clothes and started filling out a chart, she continued, "Would have let you sleep in one of the unused beds but Mr. Grimes said he'd rip my throat out with his teeth if I woke you, and I kinda believed him," she said smiling and nodding at the fact that Rick was still latched on to Daryl's ear baring said teeth.

\-----

Daryl drove back to Rick's with his lover in the passenger seat, crystal vase tucked between his legs, munching on his M&M's.

"I need a fucking shower," he mumbled with his mouth full. Then Daryl felt him turn and lay burning hot eyes on him, unsure if they were angry or just amped up. "You do too. You were at the hospital as long as I was." Gazing back out the window, Rick said, "I'm adding that to the list. We're going to shower together as soon as we get home. Ok?" Rick asked.

"Anything you want, master." Daryl replied, voice husky already with thoughts of them fucking under the spray of hot water.

"Sometimes your fucking voice is enough to make me spontaneously combust in my pants," Rick said forcefully. "Drive faster, this is a fucking race car."

Daryl shifted his eyes from the road to Rick. "That an order? Cause I really don't give a shit about tickets today."

"It's an order."

Daryl pressed his foot down and the car moved faster with grace, no jerky motions, just a smooth, flawless transition from a safe and law-abiding 50 to an urgent 90-mile-an-hour race against the clock to fuck as often as possible before the last grains of sand dropped to the bottom half of their hourglass.

After making it home unscathed by speeding tickets, Daryl jumped out and opened Rick’s door. As they walked up the path to the front door, Daryl tried to reach for the vase of M&M’s but Rick blocked him with his body. "No," he whined and popped a few more in his mouth.

Daryl started fumbling with the keys and walked more quickly to the door, already trying to gain every extra second of time. He held the door again for Rick and walked in behind him. They both stood in the foyer as Rick put the vase down on the table by the door. He looked at Daryl. "Naked. Shower. Now." And Daryl moved immediately with Rick close behind him.

They stood together, naked, as Rick turned on the water and reached a hand in to adjust it. "You forget something?" Rick asked and flicked his eyes to the ground. Daryl instantly knelt into his proper waiting position.

"Shit, sorry, sir."

Once the water temperature seemed to please Rick and he'd gotten towels out, he stood over Daryl and reached down a hand. Standing equal again, Rick said "You wash me and I’ll wash you. Ok?"

"Yes, sir," Daryl answered. The stone in his belly that had been there since he dialed 911 was slowly breaking up, morphing into a loose clump of fluttering butterfly wings.

"You can wash me first. So you’ll have to be in charge. Tell me how to stand, when to turn. Ok?"

Daryl looked perplexed for a moment. "Oh. Umm... Ok."

"Starting now," Rick clarified and he stood looking to Daryl, waiting.

"Oh," Daryl said, understanding that he was already waiting for instruction. "Well, get in the shower," Daryl said with no authoritative tone whatsoever. It fell out of his mouth clumsy and the end went slightly up in pitch like a question.

Rick smiled and said "ok" as he obeyed, and Daryl walked in behind him. The shower was opulent, tiled in river-stone and was more like the size of a small room. Rick stood under the spray, his curls slowly getting damp, arms limp by his sides, looking to Daryl and waiting.

"Tip your head back," the driver said gently and Rick slowly obeyed. Daryl put his hands in his master’s hair to make sure it was thoroughly soaked and as he did he watched Rick’s long neck pulse with a swallow. The young man thought of the shortness of time and the power of want, and he wanted. So he was going to take. He was in charge here. He licked a line from the top of Rick's chest slowly to his chin and he felt Rick’s moan vibrate as he slid his tongue over his lover's throat. Daryl was hungry for him, but nervous. Staying on task helped him figure out his next steps.

"Ok, move out of the spray for shampoo. Face me," Daryl said, unsure if he was sounding confident or awkward, but glad to see that either way, Rick was playing his part. As Daryl squeezed a dime-sized puddle of shampoo in his hand, he kept his gaze fixated on Rick’s. He rubbed his hands together then started massaging it into Rick’s thick curls.

He leaned in and pressed into Rick’s lips and the once-demanding businessman opened his mouth gently to grant Daryl access. Daryl kissed him hesitantly, pecking at his open lips. First the top one then the bottom. Then moving them both together in rhythm with his massaging fingers, reaching in gently with his tongue. He heard Rick moan and all the butterflies in him started batting their crowded wings. He pulled his lips away and Rick leaned forward, not wanting to let go.

"Back under. Time to rinse," and Rick obeyed. "Close your eyes," and he did. "Head back," and Rick’s head tilted back and Daryl watched a swallow again.

"Don't lose your opportunity," Rick said slowly as he let Daryl run hands through his hair to wash out the shampoo. "You can ask me anything until it's my turn to wash you."

Daryl furrowed his brow. He wished he had more preparation for this. His mind was blank. He couldn't think of a single question. "Shampoo's out," he said and the younger man used his hands to bring Rick's face back down. Rick was clearly trying not to smile when their eyes met again.

"Ummm... How many relationships have you been in? Like, that you had sex with. Before me."

Rick let himself slip into a smile. "Very truth or dare," he said.

Daryl frowned. "You have to answer," he said, trying to sound in control but certain he'd failed miserably, sounding more like a child whose feelings were hurt. He reached for the conditioner and locked onto Rick's eyes waiting on his answer.

"Five."

"All men?" Daryl asked as he fingered conditioner into his lover's hair.

Rick nodded.

"How long ago was the last one?"

"About a year. Ended right after I was diagnosed."

"Cause you didn't want to be in love when you thought you were dying?" Daryl asked like he already knew the answer.

"No. He left me. Said this wasn't what he signed up for," Rick said gesturing towards his head, a passing flicker of sadness in his eyes.

"Jesus, what a dick," Daryl said. Rick just nodded.

"I would never do that," Daryl said quietly even though it was a stupid thing to say. Of course he wouldn't and Rick knew that.

"I know," Rick whispered.

"We gotta rinse the conditioner out," Daryl said, an offering to change a painful subject. He moved his master with hands instead of spoken instructions back under the spray and tilted his head back with fingers pressing his chin up.

He rinsed out the conditioner. "Why did you want to start fucking me? I mean, I know you just wanted the sex, but why me? You could have anyone." The young man pressed hands against Rick's dark curls until they felt squeaky. "Conditioner's out. Look at me," Daryl said, the commanding words starting to come easier.

"You were quiet and awkward and cute as fuck and I wanted you. Wanted to hear you talk more. Wanted to hear the sounds you'd make for me."

"When did you think maybe you like… liked me more than just sex?"

"When you texted me that woodchuck question," Rick answered quickly without the slightest hint of hesitation.

Daryl smiled and soaped up the washcloth. That was only a few days in. He remembered it.

"Daryl?"

The younger man looked up as he started scrubbing at his master's chest, waiting for his next words.

"You can ask FOR things now, too."

Rick looked like he wanted that. Like he wanted Daryl to tell him what to do. He kept scrubbing, getting more nervous now because he didn't understand what Rick was really wanting of him. So he looked back to him, searching in his eyes for help.

"You were a virgin when we met, so I know you've never had a blowjob. Don't you want to know what it feels like? God knows you've given your fair share these past three months."

Daryl could hear his heart thudding. He stood frozen with the washcloth still sudded and pressed to Rick's chest.

"Ok," Daryl said quietly.

"Ok what? You need to tell me what you want."

Daryl hesitated a moment before he answered as he searched for words. "I want your mouth on me."

"On you where?"

"On my cock," the young man whispered bashfully, feeling a blush rise at this game.

"Ok," Rick answered, taking the washcloth and hanging it over a rail before kneeling down in front of Daryl on the hard shower floor. The young man watched as his master slowly pushed his lips onto his hard throbbing dick, the shower spray hitting them both.

Daryl heard himself groan and he felt dizzy as he reached out for a wall to steady himself. Rick's mouth was so fucking… wet. So hot. His tongue moved so urgently. He watched closely, fighting the urge to squeeze his eyes shut and throw his head back in ecstasy.

Rick's eyelids were loosely closed as his expression concentrated on pleasuring Daryl. The thought of this gorgeous, confident, rich, successful man on his knees for Daryl was unexplainable. Daryl. Invisible, shy, awkward Daryl had this powerful man below him sucking his dick. And the thought of this was pumping the blood through his circulatory system faster than normal.

Then Rick opened his eyes and locked on to Daryl's. Eyelashes sticking together in clumps from the spray. His mouth working, first sucking then licking. Deliberate long slow licks along his shaft from base to tip so that Daryl could see his tongue and watch it drag up his cock so slowly.

And it wasn't just the thought of Daryl having a man like this before him. It was Daryl having this specific man. Rick Grimes. Completely. He heard a whine trickle out of his own throat and realized, with the game at hand, he didn't have to wait. He could come when he wanted.

"Rick, I'm gonna come. How do you want me... I mean… I'm gonna come..." Daryl lost his train of thought for a second and his words dissolved into a shuddering gasp. "...in your mouth," and the core of him exploded and he took ragged breaths as he felt his cock pulse, Rick's tongue milking it out of him.

He kept his eyes on Rick as his mouth slid off his cock and watched as his lover leaned his head back, showing Daryl the long line of his throat as he very purposefully swallowed.

The rest of their shower was kisses and soap and hands and when they switched back roles, Rick didn't want anything more from Daryl than words. Guiding him to describe it. How it felt. What Rick's tongue did to him. And they were both pruned by the time Rick turned the shower off.

As they dried each other, Rick said, "Let's go to McDonald's. I haven't had anything but peanut M&M's and your cum all day and it's well after twelve."

Daryl blushed. "Jesus, Rick."

Rick grinned. "Oh you're bashful all of a sudden? Do you even remember the kind of filth I was whispering into your ear at that art exhibit? Didn't blush then. Came in your pants."

"You had that fucking anal thing turned up as high as it would go. You could have been talking about deep sea diving or algebra. I still would've come." 

Rick laughed full and free. No longer trying to pretend there wasn't more in him that wanted Daryl on a deeper level.

"You are so funny. Did you know that?"

No. Daryl didn't know that. He was never funny before in his old life. Or was it that he just had no one to be funny with? He started to wonder if he'd ever be funny again if... And before he could finish his thought, Rick quieted his racing mind with a soft kiss. "Get the Rolls. We're going to Mickey D's."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone for all the comments you've been leaving!! I hope to hear your thoughts on this chapter too!!


	9. You Can Have My Everything

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A trip to McDonalds and few more activities marked off the bucket list!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, a little backstory on the infamous chapter nine- back when I was writing this fic I completed chapter nine and it was great. Then between pushing a wrong button and some technical difficulties I deleted the entire thing. Completely. It was completely unretrievable. It was just gone. So a complete meltdown ensued and after many emails back and forth with Skarlatha lamenting the lose of my words, she finally got me pep talked and calmed down and back on track to write the whole thing over from scratch. Skarlatha, being the good friend she is, even sent me her sympathies, not with flowers or cards, but in the form of an amazing Rickly fic she gifted to me to cheer me up. So in honor of this chapter, I HIGHLY recommend that you read Skarlatha's A Lot About Livin'. I guarantee you will not be disappointed. Her fic includes an oscar award-winning scene that will be imprinted into your brain forever and you will thank her for it! Seriously- Fan fic Oscars should totally be invented just for the sole purpose of giving her a gold trophy for this scene. Trust me- you'll know which scene when you get to it!
> 
> So, long story short- thank God for Skarlatha!

Daryl was thankful for the beautiful sunny day as they walked out to the porch of Rick’s house to head to McDonald’s. If there were only two days left--and he didn’t believe there were… he was sure there were decades laid out before them, but just if--If they only had 48 hours together, he wanted the earth to grant them the most beautiful days possible. Rick waited on the steps as Daryl locked up.

"I can’t believe I have to drive a Rolls and park it in a freaking McDonald’s parking lot," Daryl said with a laugh.

"Either that or the Ferrari," Rick answered, shrugging his shoulders, hands tucked into the front pockets of his jeans.

The nice breeze and the bright sky gave Daryl an idea. "Or… we could take the bike," he said, casually like he didn’t care either way.

Rick grinned. "Is that gonna be the thing you get to pick from my list? Remember, one of my things is to do what you pick."

Daryl hesitated, then shook his head and continued to walk towards the open bay of the garage. "Nah, I wanna save mine."

Rick didn’t move. He still had his gaze on the bike and then back at Daryl. "But now it’s what I want. So let’s take the bike."

Daryl was all smiles as he held the bike up to help Rick get on it. It wasn’t smooth. After three clumsy attempts he got his leg over it and settled into the seat, scooting back in awkward movements to make room for Daryl.

"You ever been on a bike before?" Daryl asked, fairly certain he already knew the answer.

"A ten-speed." Rick smiled.

"Well, we ain’t going far and won’t be too fast. Just hold onto my waist and stay with my body when we dip into curves."

"Stay with your body. Got it. No problem. THAT I can do." Rick patted the rest of the seat in front of him. "Come on, kitten. Want to wrap my arms around you."

Daryl grinned and climbed on in one fluid movement. Rick hugged against him before the bike even started. His arms slid around Daryl’s midsection, familiar and comfortable. Once the bike was in motion, Rick squeezed tighter, their bodies snug together, fitting so well that a single beam of light wouldn’t find its way between them. After they wiggled through the curving long drive and hit the stretch of straight road, Daryl felt his lover’s head rest onto his shoulder. He wanted to feel this forever. The forward movement of the bike. The roar of it below them. The bright nothing-wrongness of the sky. Rick tight against him with his head on his shoulder, wind dancing in his curls as they tickled Daryl’s neck. Nothing had ever been more perfect.

When they turned in to McDonald’s, Daryl stopped the bike and popped out the kickstand. Rick stayed tight to him for a few more moments. He finally lifted his head and kissed Daryl’s neck. "Thanks for the ride."

As Daryl jumped off and helped his lover, all shaky knees and unbalanced feet, Rick smiled at him. "That was fun." They walked into the McDonald’s next to each other, footsteps completely in sync, turning to each other and grinning like first loves. Daryl held the door for Rick who turned back after they walked in, nodding to a small booth in the far back corner. "Save us that seat. I’ll get in line."

"Ok," Daryl said and started in the direction of the booth.

"Daryl," Rick whispered loud enough for him to hear and turn back. "I’m sorry I pretended so long that I didn’t have feelings for you." The younger man nodded forgiveness and turned back to get their seats. He tried not to dwell on the thought of all the time they lost both trying not to be in love with each other. So pointless to pretend. A wasted wait.

Rick arrived with a tray full of food and slid in across from him. "Got a little of everything. What do you like?"

Daryl shot up a brow. "Since when do you ask what I like before you put stuff in my mouth?"

Rick smiled as he unwrapped food. "Since the cat’s out of the bag about me loving you. Now I just want to know shit."

Daryl grinned at the reminder of being in Rick's heart. "Wanna know shit?"

"Yah, what was your favorite class in high school? What’s your favorite beer? Who’s your favorite band? What’s your favorite movie?"

"Good thing I’m not doling out punishment for questions," Daryl mumbled.

Rick grinned as he peeled the paper off a straw. "You gonna answer any of those?"

"Chicken nuggets. With honey mustard. And fries."

"Coming right up, love." Rick opened a container of honey mustard and dipped in a chicken nugget. He was facing the open restaurant and Daryl faced the corner, so they would be able to be subtle enough. He held the nugget to Daryl’s mouth as the young man kept his hands on his lap and leaned in to accept it, taking a careful bite like a well-trained puppy. They just gazed at each other in the quiet way they always did during meals. Unspoken feelings passed between glances. Rick ate the other half of the nugget and dipped another, feeding his lover again. After a third, he just dipped a finger in the honey mustard and held it so that Daryl had to stretch across the table to suck his finger clean. Rick took a sip of Sprite and then held the cup up for Daryl to drink from the straw. "Christ, I’m gonna be so pissed if I wake up paralyzed and YOU have to feed ME for the rest of my life." Daryl’s eyes dropped. Just as long as you wake up, he thought. 

"You’re gonna be fine, Rick. I know you will," Daryl said, trying to convince them both that it was a foregone conclusion. 

"Anything’s possible, I guess," Rick said softly.

"I like it," Daryl admitted, blushing. "You feeding me."

"You do?" Rick smiled.

Daryl nodded as Rick put two fries to his lips. After swallowing that bite, Daryl said, "I get all your attention. You aren’t tapping on your phone or working. You aren’t thinking about anything else but watching me and taking care of me. And I just get to sit here and look at you."

"I can understand how that would be nice," Rick grinned. After he ate two Big Macs and fed Daryl most of the fries, he placed each greasy, salty finger onto Daryl’s eager, outstretched tongue for him to suck clean and the younger man did so with a soft sigh at each digit. 

After the food was gone they fell into easy conversation, talking for hours almost like a first date. Rick found out that Daryl’s answers were wood shop, Corona without the stupid lime, Mumford and Sons but only when they had the banjo in it and The Shawshank Redemption. And Daryl found out that Rick’s answers were None of them, All of them, Simon and Garfunkel but he’d deny it if anyone found out and either Field of Dreams or Titanic depending on what kind of person was asking. Daryl found out that Rick secretly wanted to be a police officer, was haunted in his youth over nightmares of drowning and hated white chocolate and clowns. Rick found out that Daryl sucked his thumb ‘til he was twelve, had a titanium eye socket from a bike accident in high school and went through the entire seventh grade without saying a single word to any classmates. Daryl’s never told anyone things like that before. But telling them to Rick was like exorcising demons. And the way Rick responded, like putting a hand over his and squeezing after hearing about the year he never said a word in school, was like the first sip of hot coffee after being out in the cold. Warm, comforting and needed.

"Let’s take the long way home," Rick suggested after they moved from animated chatter to grasping hands and longing gazes. They walked back out to the bike and Rick climbed on with all the grace of a wounded rhino. Daryl mounted it, flawless and practiced, and smiled as Rick hugged into him again. They took the long, long way. Daryl took roads he didn’t even know, just to get lost and draw out the time that Rick was tight against him and they were moving forward, together.

\-----

When they got home, Daryl again helped Rick stumble off the bike. "I've felt that hard-on against my back for the last ten miles. You didn’t get any in the shower. Think we should take care of that?" Daryl asked, trying for batty eyelashes and flirtation but feeling like it may have come off like a drunk at last call.

"We should definitely take care of that. It’s on my list. Pull the Ferrari out here and wait for me," Rick said. He turned towards the house then paused to come back to Daryl. He wrapped his arms around the younger man and kissed him with this new kind of kiss they'd had since the hospital where his lips and tongue tried to communicate the deepness of Rick's love as they melted into Daryl. It was no longer just a physical kiss that came with sex. It was a kiss all its own. For its own sake. And it now said "I love you," where before it was just "I want you."

Daryl was fully naked and in his position by the car when Rick returned with a bottle of lube.

"Jesus, Daryl. Look at you," Rick whispered. He stood over his lover, running fingers through his hair as Daryl gazed up at him like he was God himself. "You know I can't spend 400k on a race car and not fuck my gorgeous young lover on it."

"Mhm, what would the point be?" Daryl agreed, squinting against the sun as he gazed at his lover, his owner, his friend, his everything.

"Get your sexy ass up on the hood." Rick grinned deviously. He handed Daryl the lube. "Will you get yourself ready for me?"

Daryl nodded. "I'll do anything for you."

Daryl slid up on the hood, the heat from the sun just starting to warm it. He laid his back against it, pulled his bare heels up and reached out two fingers for Rick to squeeze out some lube.

He struggled, trying to remain on the hood without slipping, and awkwardly reached down to start breaching his entrance with the first finger.

Rick smiled softly at Daryl's struggle to be graceful. "Sorry, kitten. Not sure this is going to be super comfortable."

"If your dick is in me, I'll be plenty comfortable." Daryl said, holding Rick's gaze confidently.

The older man practically pounced on top of the hood and looked down over Daryl. "Do you have any idea what you talking like that does to me?"

They held their gaze as Daryl breathed through each pump of his own fingers.

"That's it. Open yourself up for me," Rick said, deep voice dripping with heat and want.

"I'm ready," Daryl said, voice husky and eyes blown despite the afternoon sun.

"Ready for what?" Rick asked teasing more words and demands from his lover's lips, as he kissed a gentle line across Daryl's defined collarbones.

Daryl writhed around as he pulled out his fingers and scooted back up a little. "Jesus, Rick. Fuck me. We're on a fucking race car. Fuck me hard. Fast. Now. Please..."

Rick lubed himself up quickly and his first thrust was deep and fast, letting a moment pass for Daryl to get used to the girth inside him before starting to pump.

"God I love to hear that sweet mouth of yours begging for me," Rick said as he paced himself slow and steady. "Tell me what you want to feel. Tell me what you like... What you want."

Daryl's hands were pressed hard onto the hot hood of the Ferrari, trying to hold himself in place. "Fuck, Rick. I want you. Want all of you. Want to feel you inside me, taking me, making me yours. Want to be yours. Want to feel you in there for hours after you're gone… Harder." Daryl gasped out each stilted sentence with ragged breaths.

Rick steadied himself with a foot he'd moved to the ground. "Hold on for me ok? Don't come yet. Me first. Got other plans for you."

"Anything. I'll do anything you say, Rick."

"I know you will," Rick responded. "Do you want it harder, baby?"

"Yes."

Rick slammed into his lover harder, deeper. 

"Faster?"

"Yes!"

"Are you sure you can handle it without coming? I love to see you holding yourself back for me. Waiting for me to release you to come the way I want it."

"Yes," Daryl said, eyes squeezed shut.

Rick grabbed hard onto Daryl's hips. "You're so fucking beautiful taking me, Daryl. So beautiful wanting me." His panting and thrusting turned his strings of sentences to just single words, out of order and nonsensical- "need," "ever," "only" followed by a loud grunt that may have been "God," the stillness of orgasm and then the shudders of emptied release. Rick breathed heavily over his lover who was now sliding off the car.

Daryl was rock hard, wide-eyed and desperate. "Please. Please," he whimpered.

Still catching his breath, Rick asked. "Please what, kitten?"

"I need to come, master," Daryl said as he slid off that car in a sex coma and barely registered pain as his knees hit the pavement.

Rick squatted down and kissed him. And it was everything at once--want and need and love and only, and forever and God… Daryl didn't ever want to be without Rick's tongue sliding against his own.

"Don't you remember my list, sweetheart? I want you on that bike."

Daryl's cock was aching, purple. A light breeze half-a-mile away might make him spill. Rick was trying to help him to his feet.

"Wait. Wait," Daryl groaned, trying to refocus himself, afraid any movement at all might make him burst. Thoughts... He had to change his thoughts. Baseball. Road kill. Moldy cheese. George W. Bush. Finally he'd talked himself down enough to move without exploding. Somehow Rick had helped him over to the bike with Daryl barely remembering a single step of it.

He straddled the bike, glad that he parked under the shade of a tree. The seat was surprisingly cool against his throbbing, hot cock. He reflexively grabbed onto the handlebars as Rick straddled the front tire to watch.

Daryl waited, impatient for direction. "Please," he whimpered.

Rick reached for his face, stretched his fingers into Daryl's hair and leaned over the handlebars to kiss him gently on the lips. "You just need a little bit of friction, right?" he whispered with his mouth still close enough that Daryl could feel breath on his lips. He nodded. "Go on baby, roll your hips into it."

Daryl moved his pelvis, pressing his desperate cock into the seat. He whimpered into Rick's lips that were still just inches from his. "Keep riding it like that. Slow. You can come when you feel me bite," he whispered and leaned in to kiss his lover, soft and full of rolling tongue and after his fourth long slow grind into the seat he felt Rick bite down firmly on his lower lip and tug at it.

Daryl's silence broke into a loud cry and gasps that matched the pulsing of his cock as he came hard, his lip still between Rick's teeth. He shuddered and choked back tears from the difficulty of holding back and the joy of finally releasing. Rick let his lips go. "It was just the way I wanted it," Rick said, smiling.

\-----

That evening was the first time in their three months that they used the bed to sleep together. They lay twisted in each other's arms, neither wanting to give in to a sleep that would lose them precious hours. Daryl's head lay on Rick's chest and they spent hours just touching. Rick's lips to Daryl's wrist. Daryl's fingers along Rick's hip bone. Rick's foot sliding along Daryl's calf.

"Had a good day with you, Daryl," Rick mumbled on the precipice of sleep.

"Mmhm," Daryl responded, lips sleepily brushing Rick's chest.

"Could die happy after a day like that."

"Could live and have more of them," the younger man responded. Rick pressed his lips to his lover’s head, arms wrapped tighter around him. For the briefest of moments Daryl was angry. Angry that Rick was putting him through this. Giving him everything just days before it might all be over forever. But as soon as the thoughts entered, they left. Because any single moment with Rick--any kiss, any touch, any word--was better than the entirety of Daryl’s life before they met. Rick’s chest raised and lowered, a soft, light snore filling the room and Daryl watched his lover’s face for as long as his eyelids would allow, and then he too succumbed to a deep sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... Hopefully you liked it! The first version that is lost forever was probably way better, but hopefully this was still pretty sweet and steamy.
> 
> Thanks again for all the amazing comments. I'm seriously blown away!


	10. Running Out Of Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time is ticking. Daryl gets his kitten and finally picks his thing for the bucket list. The emotional roller coaster is officially starting!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thanks to Skarlatha for beta reading, advising, consoling, suggesting, recommending, pep-talking, encouraging, etc. She even corrects typos, grammar and spelling mistakes. :-)

Daryl woke up to the feel of breath against the soft skin of his neck. He kept his eyes shut so he could take a minute to concentrate on the feelings. That soft breath. A leg wrapped over his. An open hand flat against his stomach. He would give up every dime he had and both arms to be able to wake up like this every morning. He let his eyes flutter open. Rick was already awake, just looking at him. Sun was spilling in the room and birds chattered away outside the window. Daryl quietly thanked whatever gods there were that they'd get another beautiful day. Rick's face was still soft with sleep, hair in disarray.

"How long you been awake?" Daryl mumbled.

"Just a bit. Still early. Wanted to get up and make you breakfast but I couldn't take my eyes off of how sweet you look sleeping."

Daryl blushed and tucked his head under Rick's chin.

Rick kissed him on the forehead. "Gonna make pancakes and serve you breakfast in bed. Stay here." Rick said as he slipped out of bed and pulled on a pair of jeans he left hanging over a chair.

"Wanna come with you," Daryl argued.

"That would defeat the whole concept of the 'in bed' part."

"Shouldn't I be making YOU breakfast? I mean you're the one..." Daryl felt sick at where his sentence was heading and he let it drop like a speeding train off a cliff.

Rick tried to help him dance around it. "Do you KNOW how to make breakfast?"

And Daryl knew that Rick knew he didn't. "I can make pop-tarts."

"I'm not eating pop-tarts on my last..." And another sentence sputtered and dropped like the coyote in a roadrunner cartoon.

"I'll wait here," Daryl said. And Rick kissed him soft on the lips before he left, barefoot and shirtless, looking like an absolute god. To Daryl, he was God. He literally gave him life. Purpose. Love. He worshipped Rick. He would go to church every Sunday if it was sermons about who Rick was and what Rick wanted and how Rick loved him.

He allowed himself to drift off a bit, his mind filled with blue eyes and dark curls and bow legs and a bright smile and then he heard a shatter and bolted upright, yanking on boxers as he flew down the stairs.

"Rick!!?" he screamed as he heard another shatter and his lover's angry voice registered. Daryl walked in to a kitchen that smelled of burnt just in time to see another plate shatter on the floor joining broken shards that already painted the tiles.

"Are you doing the angry thing?" Daryl asked quietly.

"No! I'm not DOING the angry thing. I AM angry."

"We can have cereal," Daryl offered.

"I'm not angry I burned the breakfast today. I'm angry I can't try to not burn it tomorrow."

Daryl nodded. "Yah," he said softly, "I'm angry too." And his eyes caught the sight of a dish still sitting on the counter near him. With his index finger he gently pushed it to the edge and watched it fall to a shattering death on the floor.

Rick leaned, defeated, against the counter. A hand running through his thick hair. "Worked my ass off forever. This wasn't family money. These aren't family dishes. I MADE all this money. I worked for this. Worked for everything. And it doesn't matter after all. Doesn't matter how hard you work or how much money you make, you can't buy good fortune. You can't buy luck. I'm thirty-fucking-four and my own body is killing me. I'm gonna die after a lifetime of nothing but trying to make more and get more and have everything." He threw another dish against the far wall and they both watched as it splintered into shards. "I don't care about these fucking dishes. I don't care about this fucking house. The only thing I ever got that I really truly wanted I got three months before the devil shows up at my door. It's not fucking fair. It's not...." Rick's voice trailed off and he put a hand back through his hair.

Daryl stepped carefully across the kitchen, watching out for the big chunks of white china, and he slowly leaned his body into Rick's, sliding his arms low around his waist. He had no words. He rarely did. Words were never Daryl's thing. He wouldn't have been able to deliver words even if he had them, because he felt the hot sting of stifled tears in his throat and knew if he opened his mouth the floodgates to his sorrow would open as well. But he'd learned lately that one of the most comforting things he knew was being wrapped in the arms of his lover. So he tried his best to comfort.

Rick grasped tight to Daryl's offered embrace and the younger man could already feel his lover's body trembling from choked-back tears. Daryl let his eyes spill too as Rick's sobs finally came out in big childlike gasps. Daryl felt Rick hug him tighter as if he were literally holding on for dear life.

They ate toast and cereal for breakfast, both sitting wordless on the floor of the living room. Rick would break off a piece of toast and feed it to Daryl and then Daryl would break off a piece and feed Rick. "See. It's not so bad," Daryl said after Rick had taken the first piece from his lover's hand.

Rick ate his own chocolate Cheerios with milk and a spoon but fed Daryl his dry, three or four at a time, lingering with his fingers at Daryl's lips each time so the younger man had time to kiss them. It was a long, slow, quiet breakfast. But it was calm and peaceful and needed after the storm of emotions.

\-----

After showers, they took the Rolls to an address Rick supplied and ended up at a fairly large animal shelter.

"Rick," Daryl said, still in the driver's seat. "I can't get a cat right now. Who knows how long… things could take. I might be waiting at the hospital for weeks."

"You are not going to spend 24 hours a day in that hospital," Rick said firmly. "You have to step away once in a while. Having to go back to our place to check on the kitten will be a good way to force you to take breaks." Rick then changed to a lighter tone. "Plus, kittens... Awwww they're so cute."

"Our place?" Daryl asked.

"You forced my hand with your begging and pleading and puppy-dog eyeing me. You made me have this damn surgery so if I live through it, you owe me. I want everything."

"Fair," Daryl said. He couldn't think of anything he wanted more than an everything with Rick.

The room full of cat cages was overwhelming. Some older cats, some younger, some kittens. Tabbies, black, grey, white. Rick petted and whispered to each one as he walked by. "It's your kitten," he said to Daryl. "You pick out whichever one you want."

Daryl walked along the wall of crates, giggling at how some of the younger kittens that were kept together were climbing up the cage and wrestling with each other.

He came to a cage at the end that had a little kitten alone, his brothers and sisters already adopted. He was all black with bright golden eyes. Daryl lifted a finger up to the crate to pet him and as he did the little kitten reached out his paw and rested it on the tip of Daryl's outstretched finger as if the kitten was comforting him. He rubbed his little paw with both fingers and the kitten rolled over and stretched both paws out of the crate reaching for Daryl.

"This one," Daryl said, smiling at Rick.

Daryl named him Harley. He'd never had a pet before but instantly understood why so many people doted on animals. Harley curled up in Rick's lap on the way home, a paw stretched out and resting on Rick's hand.

Daryl had Rick wait in the car while he made the necessary stop at PetSmart. At home, the housekeepers had taken care of the mess in the kitchen and were already gone. The smell of burned pancakes was also gone and replaced with the smell of furniture polish and the general scent of clean.

They spent hours on the floor playing with their new kitten and talking. More talking than Daryl had ever done in his life. Rick wanted to understand why he was so shy and what his life had been like without any people in it. It was a boring story of frozen Stauffer's, Seinfeld reruns, and quiet loneliness. Daryl never had the experience of company or friendship or love to compare his loneliness to. But now that he did, it was mortifying to look back on.

Rick talked about school. College. His drive to succeed and his subsequent realization that he was always chasing after the wrong things.

Daryl crawled over to Rick, making the first move to kiss him and it slowly morphed into groping and hugging and petting. And long slow kisses with lazy tongues and lips moving in slow motion.

Harley curled up in a new cat bed and the only sound besides their gentle breaths between kisses was a soft purr from their new kitten.

"Rick," Daryl whispered as his lover's kisses slid to his neck.

"Mmm?" Rick asked.

"Need you to, you know... Punish me. Want to feel your hands on my ass while I'm waiting for you tomorrow. Need it." Rick pulled his lips off Daryl's throat and looked down at him from propped up elbows, a slow grin spreading across his face. "I know things have changed and love and all that, but we can still do those things we like, right?" Daryl asked in the innocent way he had, sounding both naive and sex-crazed in equal measure.

"Yes, kitten. We can do whatever we want."

"Don't want to wake Harley, though. Back porch?"

Rick was on his feet extending a hand to his lover and they slipped hand-in-hand to the back porch.

Daryl started removing his clothes without waiting for instruction.

"You do need it, huh?" Rick asked.

"Yes. Bad." Daryl got down to his hands and knees. "Please. As red as you can get me. Bruised with your hand prints."

Daryl waited, eager for the first smack and when he got it, he groaned with pleasure.

"Hurts good. More. Please," Daryl whined. Rick spanked until his hand was numb, giving Daryl only enough time in-between for a moan or a "yes" or a "please."

Out of breath, Rick said, "I guarantee you'll feel that."

Daryl slid back with outstretched arms in a yoga pose and whimpered like a spoiled child. "Want more of you on me."

Rick leaned back against the side of the house and called Daryl over. He had the younger man sit on the hard wood porch between his legs.

"Your ass hurt to sit like this?" Rick whispered.

"I want it to," Daryl replied.

Rick pulled his lover so that he relaxed into him and the older man sucked on Daryl's neck.

The younger man giggled. "Are you giving me a HICKEY?" He felt Rick nod.

As he moved from one side of Daryl's neck to the other, and sucked out bruises all along his shoulder blades, he continually ran his hands up and down his lover's chest, and down through his spread thighs.

Both men had grown hard and needy. "I got my thing now. That I can pick," Daryl said.

"Anything," Rick said, softly licking at his earlobe.

"See those trees over there?"

"Mhmm."

"Want you to make love to me under them, wanna be pressed between you and the earth. Does that sound stupid?"

"Nothing you say ever sounds stupid," Rick whispered. The two helped each other up, then Rick popped inside to grab the lube and they walked hand-in-hand to the small copse of trees in the secluded back yard, Daryl still naked with a bruising red and purple ass and Rick in jeans and a T-shirt.

Daryl stopped them at the spot he had in mind and started taking Rick's clothes off without asking permission or waiting for instructions. Rick let him. They kept their similar blue eyes locked on each other and once Rick was as bare as Daryl he held onto his lover and kissed him deep. Daryl knew enough to know that fucking and making love were different and even though they're officially in love now, they'd still mostly been fucking. There was a difference, Daryl thought, and he'd like to feel it.

Making love started with deep kisses and hands that didn't roam any further than his waist. It was slowly being led to the ground together instead of being ordered there. It was bodies against each other while Rick stretched him with gentle fingers. It was the touch of skin on skin, soft and tingly everywhere--where Daryl's hip leaned into Rick's thigh, where Rick's hand reached into Daryl's hair, where Daryl's hand spread into the hairs of Rick's chest.

Making love was softer voices and "Daryl" instead of "kitten."

"Are you ready, Daryl?" Rick asked softly, pulling his fingers out.

"Yes."

Making love was long and slow. Mouths making tender words that eyes confirmed. Making love was Rick twisting his hands into Daryl's holding his hands softly against the grass as he moved slowly in and out.

"I am in love with you, Daryl," Rick said, the look in his wide eyes confirming it. "Don't think I've ever been in love with anyone. Not like this. Not the way it is with you, you're everything."

Daryl's body and mind both tingled from the soft touches and the soft words. He held tightly to Rick's hands, the sensations inside him stronger because of that intimate contact.

Daryl whispered, "I don't ever want to stop the feeling I have right now."

Rick lowered his position so that his slow, deep thrusts allowed some friction on Daryl's hard cock lying between their bodies.

"You come whenever you want to, baby."

Just the sight of Rick above him, his gentle expression, the love in his eyes, the clear blue sky surrounding him, the earth against Daryl's back. It felt like religion. Like epiphany. Like revelation. Like the first time a child eats chocolate. It was amazing and slow and steadily grew in him ‘til the orgasm was throbbing through his entire body, his chest lifted to Rick's, shuddering through a long, lingering climax. And he felt the moan deep in Rick's chest. It vibrated against his own and Rick cried out as he pulsed inside. "God, Daryl. God."

The rest of their day was spent with the kitten, delivered Chinese food, and talk of good what if's. They packed bags for the next morning at the hospital and they laid in bed together fighting like hell to stay awake, to talk, to feel. But both fell exhausted into slumber, limbs intertwined and a little black kitten curled up and purring on Daryl's chest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think they made the most of these two days. Hope you think so too! Lot of drama and worry coming up. But remember... This is Dr. Hershal Greene. The best surgeon there is.
> 
> Thanks so much for all the love and praise in comments. I can't tell you how wonderful it feels to hear how enamored you all are with this fic! I love reading each and every one of your messages!


	11. Going Nowhere

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Well, here we are. It's surgery day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Insert my usual shout out to Skarlatha here. This is the chapter where she used her great taste in music to lend a hand. (More on that in the end notes!)

As if no time had passed at all, they were back in the hospital. The sun hadn't even cracked the sky yet. Daryl was sitting on the bed with Rick already in a gown leaning against him, a patch of hair missing behind his left ear from where a nurse shaved it for prep.

A young male nurse who introduced himself as Noah came in to check on them several times. It was clear in the air that a brain surgery like this was a pretty big deal. There was no friendly banter between the staff. Everyone was stone-faced and serious. The lack of words being exchanged and everyone’s quiet movements hung in the air like a neon sign blinking between words--Life. Death.

Daryl held tight on to Rick's hand.

"Daryl?"

"Yah?"

"Don't forget to take care of Harley."

"I won't."

A few more moments of silence passed. Rick kept his head against Daryl's chest.

"I have an attorney," Rick said. "If things don't go well, she has my will and knows what I want. You listen to her and take what I want you to have, ok?"

Daryl nodded, eyes glazing with tears.

"She knows when to pull the plug," Rick said softly. "It's what I want under certain circumstances. You won't have control over any of that, so you'll have to just let what happens happen." Pointing to Daryl’s backpack, Rick said, "Her card is in my wallet and her number’s in my phone. The hospital knows to contact her if it’s needed. She can help you understand my living will and what my wishes are if you have questions."

Daryl squeezed his lover’s hand to let him know he was listening.

"Don't grieve for too long. You have a lot to offer, Daryl. Don't let yourself be alone. You know how to talk. Talk to people. Be in the world if I can't be, ok?"

Daryl fought back tears and remained quiet, and Rick kissed Daryl's hand.

Finally Daryl leaned up and looked him in the eyes. "I know you want to come back to me. And you know how to get what you want," Daryl said in a thick-sad voice. "So I'll see you in ten, twelve hours or so."

"Ok," Rick said.

As Noah and another nurse came in to wheel Rick away, Daryl slid off the bed and kissed him softly on the lips. "I love you."

Rick opened his mouth like he was about to respond, but it hung open and his blue eyes rolled back to show only white under his half-opened lids. His body started to convulse and Daryl heard Noah's voice like it was far away at the end of a tunnel calling for Dr. Greene. As doctors and nurses swarmed Rick, Daryl felt himself slipping into unconsciousness.

\-----

Daryl woke in a hospital bed, Carol by his side holding his wrist to check his pulse.

"What happened?"

"You passed out, sweetheart."

"Where's Rick?"

Carol put a gentle hand on him. "He started seizing. Remember, they expected that. He's in surgery as scheduled."

Daryl started getting out of the bed. "Am I back in the ER?" He looked around, frantic, to get his bearings. He’d known he’d be a wreck when they wheeled Rick away, but it had happened too fast. 

"Yah. Just a precaution. You're fine. I'll walk you back up to the waiting room in surgery."

"S'ok. I can find it," Daryl said.

"Honey, Rick slipped a note to me when y’all first came in this morning asking me to please check on you throughout the day, so it's not like you'll be able to get away from me. I'll be up on all my breaks and when my shift is over."

"Oh. Ok," Daryl said, not sure if he should be touched by Rick's desire to care for him or insulted that he hired a babysitter.

They walked quietly to the waiting room he was supposed to be in.

"Dr. Greene is one of the best doctors I've ever met. He's gonna do everything he can for Rick." She continued after getting no response from Daryl, "You have to keep thinking positive. I swear, I truly believe that helps."

Daryl nodded. He was numb. He felt cheated out of his goodbye, then felt horrible for thinking it may have been a goodbye. When Carol left him in the waiting room, he sat and felt Rick's fingers across his backside as he hit the chair. He sighed into the pain. It was just what he wanted. What he needed. Rick's hands on him.

He was the only one in the pale blue waiting room, all alone with a TV bolted to the corner of the wall. The green tint from the broken color settings flickered in the emptiness as the fake-happy voices from the Today Show filtered through the static.

Noah came out with the backpack Daryl had brought. Rick had made him pack magazines, and water and granola bars. Daryl’s cell phone and earbuds were in there, but he just sat and zoned out wondering why in the world anyone gave a shit where in the world Matt Lauer was.

He decided then and there he would hate Matt Lauer for the rest of his natural born life. Just simply for having the nerve to be in this room complaining about how fucking cold it was in wherever-the-fuck. Cold. You know what's worse than cold, Matt Lauer? Dead. Dead is worse, so suck it up or go the hell home. Greenland doesn't fucking want you anyway.

And you know what's worse than dead? Being a half of someone and your other half dies and you have to wake and sleep and eat and piss and move and speak with half of yourself just completely gone.

Daryl looked at his watch. It was 7:39. Barely two hours into what could be a dozen hours of waiting.

At 10:00, Carol was up on break and talked Daryl into joining her and Tara for a coffee in the cafeteria. He went, mostly to stretch his legs and get away from the suffocating blue room. He was still its sole occupant.

As they sat and sipped their drinks, Tara told Daryl that his peanut M&M vase was a great idea and she confessed to eating two M&Ms on the way to deliver it. She got a smirk out of him and Daryl thought he was doing a good job of being present and in the world.

When he looked back up she'd gone slightly pale and was making eyes at Carol. "What?" Daryl said.

A young man with thick, dark hair sat down next to Tara. "Ladies?" he said in greeting and sent a quick dismissive, toothy smile towards Daryl.

"Dr. Walsh," Tara said, nodding hello.

Was this news? Was this one of the doctors who was working on Rick? "Is this one of the..." Daryl started to ask.

Carol spoke quickly, "Daryl, this is Dr. Shane Walsh. He's the hospital administrator here."

"Oh. Hi," Daryl said, hesitantly. "Do you have news?"

"He’s not that kind of a doctor," Carol said quietly and patted Daryl on the knee. 

Shane barely spared him a glance and looked back to Tara. "Talked to any of your nurse friends up in surgery today? I hear it’s brain surgery day. Dr. Greene seemed optimistic." he said, clearly feigning sincerity. "Heard what the chances are?"

"I think they’re good," Tara said quickly starting to stand. Clearly she didn’t like this guy.

"Don't need to be so cold about it, Tara. I did love him once. I'm not hoping he dies, for Christ's sake."

"What?" Daryl blinked.

"I'm sorry, who are you?" Shane asked, put out.

"I'm the brain surgery's boyfriend. Who the fuck are you? Are you 'I didn't sign up for this'?" He asked, fists clenched at his side and a ball of fire in his stomach. What kind of person sounds so cavalier about the life or death of someone they once loved? Even if it was a bad break-up, this was LIFE and DEATH. The unfamiliar feel of hate bubbled inside of him, as if this guy’s mere existence was the reason for Rick’s surgery.

"Shit." Shane grinned. "Where'd he pick you up?"

Daryl was speechless. This did not seem to be Rick's type at all. Maybe the guy felt guilty about being a huge asshole every day and that's where he craved the punishment and surrender of control he would have had being Rick’s lover. But he could barely picture it. THIS guy in his handcuffs? Kneeling in his spot on the kitchen? How did Rick even know a guy like this would be into their kind of thing? Did he gaze into this man’s eyes while feeding him? Pet him lovingly? THIS guy?! This guy was an asshole!

When Daryl didn't respond, the administrator stood. "Well, sorry, I guess. You should've got out while you could. God knows what's gonna come out of the other side of a surgery like that."

"Rick is going to come out on the other side of a surgery like that. The same Rick that went in," Daryl said with words that came out of him harsher than ever before. Was he in an actual confrontation?

Carol took Dr. Walsh by the arm and started asking questions about staffing in the ER as Tara put a hand on Daryl's arm and walked him to the elevator. "We never understood what a guy like Rick ever saw in that asshat. Shane used to date my brother before Rick so I know for a fact he’s as big a prick outside of this building as he is inside. Don't listen to anything he says about this surgery. You stay positive. The guy’s a dick."

Daryl nodded as Tara put him in the elevator and reached around to push the button. "My break's over, but I'll stop up later," she said, and smiled as the doors closed.

Back in the waiting room, Daryl dug in his bag, found his phone and earbuds and tried to calm his frustration with music. Daryl could not picture Shane and Rick together. Not that he wanted those kinds of images. Maybe Rick purposefully went looking for someone that was the complete opposite of Shane after they broke up. Daryl felt like he was, for sure, nothing like that smug, heartless bastard.

At noon Carol came in with two McDonald's bags.

Daryl pulled his earphones out. "Have you heard how it's going?" he asked, hopeful for news.

She shook her head. "Just that it's going," she said as she took a seat near him. She put a bag in front of him.

"Not really hungry, but thanks," Daryl said, eyes sliding to the TV.

She unfolded a piece of paper and that got his attention back on her. "If he says he's not hungry, tell him you will force feed it to him if he doesn't do it himself." She looked up, waiting for his response.

"Yah, that sounds like him. He's bossy." Daryl smiled when he said it and opened the bag. It was his favorite, chicken nuggets and fries with lots of honey mustard packets.

Carol opened a small fridge in the waiting room and brought them each a Coke. Apparently, if you knew someone who might be dying at Alexandria General, you got free soda.

Daryl looked at his food for a while. Christ, he literally hadn't put a piece of food in his own mouth in weeks. Sure couldn't put this on the floor and eat like he did at home with his pop-tarts. Almost felt like he was cheating on Rick to feed himself.

He put a whole nugget in his mouth and chewed it without dipping, then dipped his finger in the sauce and sucked at it. He thought about sucking on Rick's finger and he felt that empty feeling of something missing in his belly. That feeling that would be there forever if Rick never woke up.

He was sad. He just recently started feeling things like anger and sadness. And if he had to take them in order to feel love and happiness, he guessed it was fair. But he hated these feelings. These bad ones that caused an abstract pain worse than anything physical.

"Dr. Walsh is a dick," she said. "Just want you to know, I've seen them together before and it was nothing... NOTHING like what you have. There's something missing in that man, I swear," she said, shaking her head and stabbing at her McDonald's salad. "Dated Tara’s brother too and treated him like shit."

"I feel like it would feel good to punch him. I've never punched anyone. I never even spoke loudly at anyone. He didn't do nothing but act like a heartless dick, but...man--I could punch something right now. And it would be awesome if it was his face."

Carol giggled and nodded. "And I would like to see him get punched."

"He has stupid teeth," Daryl mumbled as he ate another whole nugget. "Stupid ears. Let's talk about something else so I can keep this food down."

Carol talked while he ate. Talked about her daughter, talked a bit about an ex-husband and going back to school and then fucking asked if he saw where in the world Matt Lauer was at today. THAT lucky bastard got a reprieve because now Shane Walsh was at the top of Daryl’s hate list.

At 1:30, Noah came in to report that they were still operating and so far, so good.

Daryl sped home after the report like he'd promised Rick and checked on Harley. He put out fresh food and water, emptied the litter box and spent a half hour playing with the little guy. The kitten tired out and curled up to Daryl's chest with a paw stretched up, touching his chin. Daryl gave himself a few minutes to let tears fall before nuzzling a goodbye to Harley and returning to the hospital.

He was back by 2:45 and went directly to Noah to check in. With nothing new to report since he left, Daryl went back to his pale blue prison. Digging into his backpack, he saw Rick's phone and decided to listen to whatever he had in his iTunes for something different. Opening the app, he saw that one of the playlists was called "Daryl."

He closed his eyes, put his feet up on the table and pictured Rick listening to the mixture of songs that contained lyrics about love, life and death, memories, sex, and forgiveness. Some were hard and some were soft. But they all were Rick's. As he listened he pressed his ass harder into the seat to feel Rick's hands. And he continued to wait and want.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here are the songs I imagine to be on Rick's "Daryl" playlist:
> 
> Pretty - Cranberries  
> Closedown - The Cure  
> I Want You- Third Eye Blind  
> Closer- Nine Inch Nails  
> Give Me Love- Ed Sheeran  
> Let You Down- Dave Matthews  
> Bullet in My Hand- Red Light Kings  
> Crash Into Me- Dave Matthews  
> Mad World- Gary Jules  
> Breathe Me- Sia  
> In Your Eyes- Peter Gabriel  
> Kiss Me- Ed Sheeran  
> Awake My Soul- Mumford & Sons  
> Take Me To Church- Hozier  
> Work Song- Hozier  
> Live Forever- Drew Holcomb & The Neighbors  
> All Alright - fun.  
> Dare - Phildel  
> Bookends- Simon and Garfunkel
> 
> A little bit of trivia- chapter titles have been lyrics from these songs.


	12. Awake My Soul

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The surgery is over. Daryl finds out how successful Dr. Hershel Green is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know you are sick of hearing it... But my Beta reader, Skarlatha, is totally freaking awesome!

Daryl spent a good two hours lost in Rick's music trying to replay moments of their time in his memory. Brushes of Rick’s hand, long gazes, the soft press of lips on his neck. He squirmed down in his seat to feel the sting still lingering on his ass. Would it have been better if he never knew this life? He’d just be home eating PB&J’s and not knowing any different. Work, home, dinner, TV, bed, repeat. There wouldn’t have been this fear or this sadness. He wouldn’t know this feeling of loss and helplessness. But there wouldn’t have been this new beat to his heart that’s made him feel like a whole real person for months now. He never would have felt the euphoria of loving and the comfort of being loved. Never would have known Rick. Never would have had Rick’s skin against his. Lips against his lips. And he knows. He knows he’d never have wanted it any other way. Around 5:00, Noah came in wearing a T-shirt and jeans instead of the green scrubs.

Daryl looked up and pulled out his earbuds. "News?"

"Closing up is all I know."

Daryl cocked his head as the nurse sat down.

Noah looked down at his clothes. "Oh, I'm off duty. Still in school to become a doctor. Kinda want to see how Dr. Greene does. He really is one of the best."

Daryl stood and stretched his legs. "News soon then, you think?"

"Yah. I think."

Daryl started pacing and looked at his watch. 5:15. "It's been almost 12 hours. Dr. Greene said probably 10 unless things got complicated."

"Doesn't mean anything," Noah said calmly. Daryl bit at a thumbnail willing the reassurance to comfort him. But it didn’t, and his pacing continued.

At 5:20, Carol stopped by just to give him a hug, saying that she had to get home to her daughter. Tara arrived at 5:30 and sat down wordlessly next to Noah with a bag of peanut M&M's. She popped a few in her mouth then shook two into her hand and held them out to Daryl. "I owe you two."

Before Daryl could reach for them, he saw Dr. Greene walk into the waiting room. Daryl froze. "Mr. Dixon, let's sit down in one of the private rooms," the doctor said. The tone was… ok. It wasn't cartwheels, but it wasn't grim reaper. It didn’t seem to be a precursor to bad news, but was that just wishful thinking? 

"Ok," Daryl said cautiously and followed him like a lost puppy. He looked back at Tara and Noah. "We'll be right here," Tara said, smiling. She must have gotten the same sense of not-too-bad.

Daryl sat across from the doctor, bouncing a foot and nibbling on a thumbnail.

"Mr. Grimes did really well. He's..."

"Can I see him?" Daryl interrupted.

The surgeon shook his head. "He's still in recovery. He's not awake yet but I have no reason to worry about him regaining consciousness. We got the entire tumor with very little damage to the brain."

"Brain damage?"

"It's nothing to worry about yet, son. He survived the surgery. That's the first big hurdle. Not only did he survive but his vitals are strong. He's a fighter. He wants to be alive and I'm inclined to believe that sometimes, that bit of will can make a difference."

Daryl exhaled a breath that he felt like he'd been holding for days.

"He'll likely stay asleep for another eight or ten hours. Surgery like that is exhausting on the body. You might want to head home. Get yourself some sleep. Come back in the morning and we'll see how he is."

"No. I can't not be here if he wakes up," Daryl said softly.

"Well, son. Go get a few hours of sleep at least and come back whenever you want. None of the staff here will turn you away from waiting."

"Thank you for... " Daryl's voice choked. The surgeon stood and nodded.

"Let's hope for the best when we run all the cognitive tests in the morning. I'll be checking him at 5 a.m."

When Daryl returned to the powder blue room of hell, Tara and Noah were still patiently waiting.

"He's alive." Daryl said, smiling and dripping tears simultaneously. "Won't know about any damage ‘til tomorrow morning."

Both of the nurses grinned. "Amazing. I told you he was good!" Noah patted Daryl on the shoulder. "Go get some sleep," he said.

Tara tapped away on her phone. "Telling Carol," as the sound of a sent message slipped out of her phone.

It suddenly dawned on him that he'd sort of made friends. That while Rick was gone, he did what he'd promised. He was in the world and he was present.

\-----

Daryl spent five hours back at the house. He slept alone in Rick's bed with Harley curled up on his chest. After a good four hours of dreamless sleep, he showered, fed the cat and took the Ferrari back to the hospital.

When he returned, the night shift nurse, Sasha, reported no excitement. Rick had been sleeping soundly, all vitals still strong. "He seems to have a lot of people pulling for him. The hospital administrator even stopped by to check his status," she said, obviously clueless to the relationship that had existed. 

"Shane?" Daryl asked. He hated the taste of the name. Hated the sound of it. Sasha nodded. "He get to go in and see Rick?" Daryl asked, green with jealousy before even getting an answer. 

"No, sir. Just stopped by the desk." Daryl noticed his hands had become fists without even realizing it. Shane had no right to know how Rick was doing. He’d given up that right. Daryl took a deep breath and went back to the waiting room.

The TV was off and Daryl sat alone waiting in silence. He was so excited that his lover was alive. There was only one thing left he needed. Just memory. He didn't care if Rick was blind, deaf, mute, paralyzed, a stutterer, an epileptic... Anything. He'd be completely happy to find a way to make things work. All he needed was memory. Don't forget about us, Daryl prayed for the millionth time since he’d switched from the ‘please don't die on me’ prayer.

By 4:45, Daryl was pacing at the nurses’ station waiting impatiently for Dr. Greene. And at 5:00 a.m. on the nose, the surgeon came through the doors. Rick would like his punctuality.

"Did you get some sleep, son?" the surgeon asked.

Daryl nodded. "Yes, sir. Can I come in while you're checking him?"

"Can't have you getting in the way. Can you stay back? Not interrupt while I'm asking questions and checking everything?"

"I promise. I swear," Daryl said. Dr. Greene waved a hand for Daryl to join him as he swiped his badge to get to the post-surgical ward.

Daryl walked in behind the doctor and saw Rick asleep in the bed. Pale, lips extra pink against his pale skin. White bandages wrapped around his head, partially covering his eyes. IV hooked up to a limp arm that rested on top of the blanket. Beeps and humming filled the room from various machines that were connected to monitor him.

Daryl saw the doctor reviewing the chart. "Mr. Grimes? Can you hear me?" he asked.

Nothing. Daryl's stomach churned.

Dr. Greene pulled the cover off and used the back end of his pen to tickle along the bottom of Rick's right foot… and it moved. The surgeon looked at Daryl with a wide grin. "That's good." He repeated the motion on the left foot and got a similar reflex. A hand next, and it twitched. And at the other hand, Rick moaned and moved his head, lifting a hand to his eyes.

"Daryl?" Rick's dry throat croaked.

"Here. I'm here." He sprung towards the bed, and Dr. Greene nodded approval for him to grab a hand. Memory. He remembered. Anything else would be ok. Anything.

"Can't see," Rick said, licking his dry lips.

"We have your head wrapped still, Mr. Grimes. We'll check your eyesight shortly. One thing at a time, ok?"

Rick squeezed Daryl's hand, tight. Strong. The younger man beamed up at the doctor who nodded, noticing the strength in his grip.

"Hear funny," Rick said.

The doctor took something that looked like a dog clicker and put it to his patient's right ear. "Raise your right hand when you hear a beep." Rick raised his hand several times to a series of sounds too low for Daryl to pick up on.

"Good," the doctor said. "Again with the other ear."

Several moments went by with no movement from Rick.

"Might have lost hearing on one side, Rick. Nothing you won't be able to get used to," Dr. Greene said softly.

Daryl squeezed Rick's hand and kept it held tight.

"What year is it?"

"2015," Rick answered.

"Who's the president?"

"Barack Obama."

Daryl's eyes flashed to the surgeon after each question even though he knew the answers were right. Each smile and nod from the surgeon lightened the tension in Daryl's shoulders.

"Who's this here with me holding your hand?"

"My lover, Daryl. Dixon."

God. The sound of 'lover' on Rick's lips was like honey. Daryl wanted to cover him in kisses, to lick the sound of his voice off his tongue, to crawl into the bed and tuck himself into Rick's body, bury himself in his lover’s arms.

"What's your birthdate?"

"August 21st, 1981."

"Does anything hurt? Your head? Any muscles? Anything feel numb?

After a moment Rick said, "My head. Back of my head hurts."

"I imagine it does. I just yanked a tumor out of there yesterday."

The surgeon went to the opposite side of Daryl and started to unwrap bandages. "We're gonna check your eyes then the incision."

Daryl watched as Rick's beautiful blue eyes fluttered open, already aimed in his direction as if his eyes were parched, but thirsty only for Daryl and they guzzled him in on sight.

"Focus on my finger, Rick," Dr. Greene instructed.

"Wanna look at Daryl," Rick said as he rubbed at his left eye.

"Can you see me, baby?" Daryl asked softly, already leaning towards his lover's right ear as he spoke.

"Yah," Rick sighed. "Beautiful".

Dr. Greene came up behind Daryl and moved him out of the way gently. "Need you to concentrate on me, Rick." He covered his left eye with his hand and held up three fingers. "How many fingers?"

"Three."

The surgeon covered Rick's right eye. "How many?" Rick rubbed at his left eye again and shook his head, pushing the doctor’s hand away. "Can't see out of that one."

The surgeon jotted notes on his chart. "Left eye and left ear."

"Is it permanent?" Rick asked.

"Most likely, but it’s hard to say for sure. If that's all we lost, Rick, be happy. You did great."

"I'm happy," Rick said groggily, reaching up to touch Daryl's face and not quite connecting because of his new visual impairment. Daryl grabbed his hand as it overshot his cheek and pressed it to his lips.

"When can I go home? Wanna go home with Daryl. We have a kitten."

Dr. Greene smiled wide. "Told you boys I was due for a success. We need to keep you for a couple days. You are going to be on heavy pain killers and we need to monitor a little longer. But, Mr. Grimes, you'll be a story I tell quite often. Thanks for wanting to live. Can't save someone who doesn't want it."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> He's ALIVE!!! But there's still three more chapters...Whatever will happen next?
> 
> I just hope you guys know that I enjoy your comments as much as you enjoy my fics! I've gotten so many amazing comments for this fic. I hope you continue to enjoy with the next chapter!!


	13. Crash Into Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Life after surgery. And stuff. Stuff and thangs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to Skarlatha!

Rick's lips were soft and warm. His tongue was gentle as it slipped into Daryl's wanting mouth. The young man moaned into the kiss as he felt his lover's soft hands rake into his hair. He felt so at peace, so whole, so loved, so wanted.

The weeks following the surgery were not flawless. Rick struggled with balance and depth perception from his audio and visual impairments. He would reach for Daryl's face and overshoot it. Would fumble on the stairs if he moved too fast. He'd occasionally struggle for missing words and he'd grow frustrated. All of these things were expected and the two of them worked together to adjust.

Daryl was by his side, always. He would help his lover's hand if it wasn't reaching its mark. Steady him on the stairs and catch him in stumbles. He'd help Rick find missing words. Daryl was patient and gentle. And when Rick grew angry and frustrated, the young man would crawl into his lap, ass bare and offered for Rick to exhaust himself with. Daryl joked that it not only helped Rick to unload some anger with the spankings, but also was a good exercise in eye-hand coordination. And Daryl still got dizzy drunk in the sting of Rick's hands on him that way.

Their meals went even slower than normal, with pieces of chicken or cubes of cheese or cantaloupe chunks hitting Daryl in the cheek or chin. In order to keep Rick from getting depressed or frustrated as he learned to adjust during meals, Daryl would lean in, guide him with eye contact. They took their time. They had all the time they wanted.

Now, four weeks in, Rick's hands were finally starting to land where he intended them to be 90% of the time, so Daryl knew that his lover's hand reaching down and gripping his ass while they cuddled in bed was very purposeful. 

Daryl met Rick's eyes at a break in their kiss.

"I want you," Rick said and Daryl could see in his eyes exactly what he wanted.

"K," the younger man whispered, already squirming at the thought of being filled. They'd literally spent days at a time doing nothing more than kissing and cuddling, but since the surgery, they'd gone no further than that and the occasional spanking.

"Don't want you babying me anymore. Want to take you. Fuck you. Feel you," Rick murmured into his lover's mouth as he leaned in and tugged at Daryl's lower lip with his teeth. "Haven't felt the inside of you in so long."

"You can take whatever you want," Daryl said, putting his wrists together and holding them up to Rick in supplication. "I'm all yours," Daryl whispered, batting his eyelashes, eager at the thought of feeling Rick inside him for the first time since the surgery.

The older man smiled wide and reached over his lover to open the nightstand and pull out cuffs. He slowly clamped one on and gently brought both of his lover's hands above them to loop the cuffs through the oak rails of the bed.

Daryl mmm'd at the feel of being helpless to Rick again, finally.

Rick kissed his lover's neck. "No asking me if I'm ok, seriously. I will beat your ass bright red if I hear it even once," Rick said firmly but with a soft smile. He looked up to Daryl as he peppered kisses along his shoulders. Rick moaned as he reached down and slid a hand over Daryl's cock, a finger sliding further past to gently trace the crack of his ass. Rick let out a long, low predatory growl.

"Are you ok?" Daryl asked, going for playful and knowing he'd pulled it off.

Rick grinned and bit into the flesh of Daryl's bicep. He bit fiercely, clearly with the intent of eliciting the sound of wanted pain from Daryl's lips, and he got it in the form of a needy whimper.

"You gonna say it again?" Rick whispered, the tantalizing promise of his firm touch echoing in Daryl's ears.

"You ok?" the young man whispered again, pupils blowing wide.

Rick flipped his body over with strong arms, Daryl's wrists crossing each other in the cuffs.

"Been a while, kitten," Rick whispered roughly. "Tell me your safe word."

Daryl wasn't sure if Rick really wanted to make sure Daryl knew it, or if it was a lost word he was searching to remember himself, but either way, he obeyed.

"Limo."

Rick nodded, rubbing Daryl's ass, already getting him hard just at the thought of what was to come.

Rick applied lube and had one glorious finger inside massaging Daryl's desperate entrance when they heard a door slam. They froze for a moment, processing thoughts.

"Not the maid," Daryl said. “It's Sunday. It's late." He tugged at the cuffs. "Let me out," he said with just a sliver of concern edging into his voice.

Rick pulled his finger out and Daryl whimpered instinctively at the loss of its much-needed sensation.

Rick pulled on boxers. "Grocery delivery, maybe," he said as he tugged on jeans and walked towards the doorway without much concern.

"Rick," Daryl spoke louder and his lover looked back.

"Stop babying me," he said, grinning. "I'll be right back."

Daryl flipped over to his back and untwisted his cuffed hands. He tilted an ear to try and listen. Did the grocery delivery people even have a key? He heard the voices drift through the halls.

"What are you doing here? Did you keep my key?" Rick asked, his voice much different than Daryl had ever heard. Weaker. Timid. Meek.

"You've always been mine, Rick. And that makes it my key, doesn't it? Nothin' is yours." Daryl knew the voice instantly and he pictured that smug toothy smile from the hospital. His voice was slightly slurred, clearly he'd been drinking, but there was no doubt… It was Shane. Daryl moved instinctively, trying to scramble from the bed, the cuffs digging into him, a reminder that he was helpless.

"Get out. I'm not yours anymore. You let me go. It's over and I don't want it back." Rick's words were well-chosen and firm, but his voice was mouse-like.

"That's not for you to decide. I decide. That's how we've always worked. Now get on your fucking knees."

What the fuck? Daryl remembered his surprise at Shane's dominant personality. His thoughts flashed to Rick on his knees in the shower playfully being submissive to Daryl, he thought of the conflict in his eyes at the sex club and Maggie's voice, "Oh my, darlin’, this is different. Looks like things have… changed." He remembered Rick's lecture about how a good Dom behaves. The hungry look in his eyes when Daryl took a more demanding tone about what he wanted. Shane wasn't Rick's sub. Rick was the one in those handcuffs, the one being fucked by strangers in the club and not liking it. Shane was the dom and Rick had been his. An obedient sub.

Daryl's mind swirled with confusion. What did Rick really want? To lead or to be led? Was Daryl meeting his needs? Was the playful role reversal in the shower enough? He shook his head. Rick loved Daryl. Of that he had no doubt. So his mind went to Shane… and knowing that Shane was more dominant in nature made him worry. He wondered how far someone would go if the right mixture of anger, jealousy, dominance and alcohol were present. 

"Shane, no." And Daryl heard a fall. Rick falling. He knew the sound of Rick falling since his surgery and his damaged vision and balance.

Daryl tugged. Grabbed the cuff chain in his hands and pulled desperately and unsuccessfully. He twisted his body around to bring his feet up towards his cuffed hands, and kicked hard against the headboard. Over and over with increasing adrenaline, he kicked barefoot against the oak rail. 

He heard the wood splinter before he realized his foot had finally gone through, leaving several large splinters sticking through it. Free but still cuffed, he ran to the bottom of the stairs with a bloody footprint following in his wake.

He reached the foyer where Rick looked up at him from the floor, holding onto an injured wrist. Shane quickly turned to Daryl and grabbed him by the throat, slamming him against the wall with cat-like reflexes. Daryl smelled the hard alcohol on Shane's breath as the man held him pinned to the wall, still naked and cuffed. 

Shane slowly eyed up Daryl from bloody foot to bound hands to tousled hair. "Awwww... Ricky, you've been trying to play dom."

"Rick." Daryl looked to him for direction. Frantic. Confused. Cuffed hands dangling helpless in front of him, trying to shield his bareness. 

"Let him go Shane, please," Rick begged as if he already knew the man well enough to know what awful things he could do.

"Shane. Rick ain't interested." Daryl struggled against Shane's firm grip on his throat to get each word out. "You don't want him anyway. He's broken. Can't see or hear right," Daryl said, trying to rationalize in a way he thought Shane might respond to. 

"Don't need him to. Jus' need his holes. Now that he don't got the burden of possibly goin' belly-up on me, I'm takin' back wha's mine," Shane said with thick, drunk words and his god-awful fake smile. "And now I'll have your holes, too. Why don't you kneel for me and wait your turn? Be a good sub."

"Shane. I'll do anything. Please. Let him leave. I'll do what you want. Please don't hurt him," Rick begged, cautiously getting up to his knees.

Shane shrugged. "Whatever. Go. Get the fuck out of here," the dark-haired man said to Daryl, shoving him towards the front door by the hand that was still around his neck.

The younger man stumbled, regained his balance and stood tall. "No," he said, strong and determined.

Shane smiled. It was a slow, evil curl of lips that told of thoughts equally as horrid behind his dark eyes.

"DARYL!" Rick yelled. "He will HURT you. Listen to me. Leave. Do what I say. It's an order."

Daryl looked from Shane's awful smile down to Rick's face, timid, still hesitant to stand. The young man cocked his head at his lover.

"Limo," Daryl said slowly.

"The fuck does that mean?" Shane asked, turning his attention down to Rick.

Daryl took the split second of surprise to crash into Shane, slamming them both into the foyer table, breaking it and shattering the vase that now sat permanently on it, always refilled with M&M's. Bright rainbow-colored candies bounced everywhere among broken pieces of table and crystal. Shane was bigger and broader than Daryl and after a brief struggle between them, he quickly flipped Daryl over, pinning him to the floor on his stomach, cuffed hands above his head.

"You made a bad fuckin' decision, kid," Shane seethed. Daryl saw Rick finally stand and stumble towards them, his balance all over the place from the jostling and the adrenaline. Shane seemed not to notice, likely confident that Rick would never raise a hand against him.

"There's a difference between bein' a willin' submissive participant an' bein' fucked completely 'gainst your will and guess what you're goin' ta learn about today, fucker?" Shane slurred into Daryl's ear, his intoxication becoming even more evident. Rick fell forward clumsily, landing on his knees by their side.

"Shane, please. Take me. Now. I'll fight it like you like, promise. I'm right here." As Shane turned to look at Rick, Daryl reached for a broken leg of the hall table and twisted his body around with full force making contact with Shane's head, every ounce of complicated emotions he had in him put into the swing. Shane hit the ground with a thud. Daryl dropped the leg, letting it clatter to the floor, displacing M&M's that bounced around again like popcorn.

The sound of the phone as Rick pressed 9-1-1 was hauntingly familiar as it echoed in the big hallway. Shane was still. Out cold. After the call, Rick clamored up the stairs alone, retrieved the cuff key, took them off Daryl and put them on Shane, shaking the whole time, but not missing his motions. Not falling. Concentrating on every move. He dropped clothes by Daryl's side as he unlocked and opened the door, sounds of the ambulance and police already hanging in the air.

Rick helped Daryl pull his jeans on over his throbbing bloody foot and then slipped behind him, holding his lover tight, head on his shoulder, waiting for the paramedics they heard shouting to each other outside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rick was Shane's sub! Did anyone see that coming? For all of you who wanted Daryl to punch Shane.... hope you enjoyed!! :-) Two more chapters to wrap things up. I'm really going to miss this story. Thank you all for being part of it!! It's been fun to write and even more fun to post and see you all enjoying it so much!


	14. In These Bodies We Will Live

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The aftermath of the Shane attack. Plus, back to some smut. Just because they are in love, doesn't mean that they don't enjoy their D/s lifestyle!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to Skarlatha! You know why!

In the ER, Rick sat on the bed with Daryl leaning back into him as the mulleted attending physician tweezed over a dozen splinters out of his foot, two of which were over 6 inches long and completely sunk from the top through the bottom. It wasn't protocol, of course, to be cleaning wounds and tying stitches like this, but Rick had turned fiercely protective of Daryl since Shane's attack, refusing to let him go. Carol had managed to convince Dr. Eugene Porter to let them be.

Daryl tucked his head under Rick's chin and concentrated on the feel of his lover's arms wrapped tight around him. "Does it hurt, baby?" Rick whispered into his ear.

"Not when you're holding me," the younger man answered.

"He's being less than truthful with you, Mr. Grimes. This here hurts like a son-of-a-bitch and I can guarantee it," the doctor reported. "Shot in some local anesthetic but once the shock of his amped-up, testosterone-filled state wears off and the anesthetic wears off with it, I believe your friend here will be hella uncomfortable for quite some time." The doctor turned his focus back to Daryl's foot. 

"Is Shane ok? Do you know?" Daryl asked him.

"Shane Walsh is a first class ass-clown and if you are asking me if he's ok in general, my answer will always be hells no. If you are asking about his current state of physical well-being, I'm happy to report that while you won't be arrested for murder, you can soak in the glory of delivering a concussion and a hell of a black eye to a grade-A douchebag."

Daryl and Rick just gaped at the doctor. "There may be some bias in my opinion as I was recently being called on the carpet yet again regarding issues with my bedside manor. But I ask you Mr. Dixon, would you rather I make it so you can walk on this foot again or would you rather me concentrate on comforting you with idle words and pleasantries?"

"Fixing the foot is good," Daryl replied with a grin.

He felt Rick giggle behind him.

"What did you ever see in that douchebag?" Daryl turned back to ask, threading his fingers into Rick's hand and holding it tight to his chest.

Rick sighed heavy. "Think I just hated myself for a while. Had all this power and money... But still felt like nothing. Pretended I wanted to feel like nothing, I guess."

"I'm with you cause I wanted to feel like something."

Rick kissed his forehead. "You're more than something. You're everything."

“You sure I’m enough of what you need? Do you like it this way… being, you know, the one in charge?” Daryl looked back down at his foot as he waited nervously for the answer.

“Jesus,” Rick whispered, as he put gentle fingers to Daryl’s chin and turned his lover’s gaze back to meet his own. “I don’t care how we… do things. I just want _you_ , Daryl. I love you. I lived for you.” 

"Daryl!" Carol shouted, flying into the room with open arms. She hugged him and gave him a quick kiss on the forehead before she stopped to take inventory and cringed at the bruises and small cuts along the side of his cheek.

"We've got to stop hanging out so much at this hospital," Rick said, smiling. "'S like we're regulars."

"Are you ok?" Carol asked, looking down at Daryl’s freshly stitched foot.

"Yah, 's nothin'," Daryl said, snuggling back against Rick. 

Eugene finished up and walked out with a nod to Carol, “This man is the shiznit, Nurse Peletier.” She grinned back and nodded. Something told Daryl there would be a lot of grinning and nodding amongst the staff today. 

"Saw the shiner when Dr. Walsh came in." She lowered her voice. "Did you get to punch him?"

"Yah. Punched him with a table leg,” Daryl smirked.

"Oh, Tara is going to LOVE that!" She tapped out a quick message on her phone then slid it back into her pocket as the swish of a sent text message sounded. "Rick,” she said leaning in to kiss his forehead as well, “thanks for the flowers.”

“Thanks for taking care of my baby while I was unconscious,” Rick said as he squeezed Daryl tight to him.

"It was my pleasure to hang out with your sweet young man."

“I can hear you. I’m right here.” Daryl grinned. “And I’m not all that sweet. I just totally kicked someone’s ass.” He felt Rick chuckling behind him.

Carol smiled again, full and bright. "Yah, you did! Cops are talking to him now. You gonna press charges?"

Both men looked at each other. "Don't know," Rick said. "Haven't talked about it."

"Well, you guys do what's best for you. Tara's still disappointed that her brother didn't have the fortitude to stand up to him. I just know how he is. You have to show him you are strong and not afraid."

Daryl nodded. "I ain't afraid."

Rick smiled at him. "Me either."

\-----

Three weeks later

Rick opened the driver’s side door for Daryl and reached out a hand to help him out. His lover climbed out, immediately removed his boxers and left them in the front seat. Rick eyed him up and down, drinking him in.

After clasping on the collar and leash, Rick leaned in slow and devoured Daryl in a long deep kiss as the distant beat from the club echoed in the parking lot. Once they were inside, Rick shot Daryl a glance that asked "are you ok?" and Daryl responded with wide, eager eyes that said "yes."

They were celebrating. Shane had been charged with assault and relieved of his post at the hospital. And though the charges from their altercation only ended in a fine, Shane was in jail awaiting trial for the rape of Tara’s brother, Randall, who had finally come forward after Rick and Daryl gave him the support and confidence he needed. They’d had an extravagant dinner the night before with Carol, her daughter Sophia, Tara, Randall, Noah and his girlfriend, Beth. But tonight was theirs. And Rick had let Daryl pick anything he wanted to do.

Rick took them to a couch where he sat and looked up at Daryl still standing before him.

"Is this where you want me?" Rick asked, grinning at his lover. Daryl nodded silently and straddled him. He kept his eyes glued to Rick's as he lowered to his lap. Daryl wanted this. Asked for it. Wanted to be out again with Rick in public. Being Rick's. Watching Rick be his. Being out in the world together. 

Daryl leaned in to his lover's lips and pecked at them quickly then pulled away slowly, teasing, making Rick lean up for more. Daryl pulled back playfully, keeping his lips just a fraction of an inch away from Rick's reach as he rocked his hips. He felt the thrill of people around him and of Rick under him.

Daryl reached between their legs and started unbuttoning and unzipping Rick. "Want you," Daryl said, flicking his eyes up to Rick's.

The older man wiggled in his seat to pull his jeans off his ass and past his thighs. Daryl dived in for more passionate kisses, erections hard and pressed together as the roll of Daryl's hips brushed them softly against each other. "Can you take out the plug? 'M ready for you," Daryl whispered into Rick’s right ear, comfortable now asking for things he wanted. 

Rick reached back and pulled out the silicone plug that had been buried deep in Daryl’s ass all afternoon. The younger man slipped a bottle of lube out of Rick's shirt pocket. He pumped Rick a few times with a lubed hand and guided him as he lowered himself onto Rick's rock hard cock.

"Mmmm… Jesus, Daryl," Rick murmured as Daryl took him completely in and started slowly rocking his hips, riding Rick’s cock up and down. "You feel so fucking good. Look so good taking what you want from me," Rick moaned, his hands gripping tightly onto Daryl's strong thighs.

Daryl loved feeling the music pumping around them, the look of desire in Rick’s eyes, the feel of Rick’s hands on him as he matched the movement of his hips to the beat of the song surrounding them.

“People are looking at you, kitten. Jealous. They want to be me. Have you on top of them like this,” Rick said just loud enough to be heard over the music. “I love that you’re mine. Love that you belong to me.”

Daryl leaned forward to Rick’s right ear, nibbled on it and sucked at the lobe before he whispered. “I want you to bend me over the table and show them all who I belong to. Fuck me hard, please, master. Fuck me like you own me,” Daryl begged. He pulled off of Rick as the older man clamored out of his seat, turning Daryl quickly around and pressing him over an open table, sliding right in and holding both Daryl’s wrists together behind his back as he started pumping hard and fast. Daryl groaned loudly, gasping and whimpering with each hard pump. Words escaping him, “yes”s and” Oh God”s and “harder”s. They were definitely being watched now. Daryl liked not being invisible. This was the opposite of invisible--it was on display. As Rick’s. And he loved being Rick’s. Daryl’s head was against the table and he turned it to the other side so his words would be closer to Rick’s right ear, his face easier for Rick to see. “Fuck, Rick. I love you so fucking much. Love everything you give me.”

“Don’t come,” Rick said as he groaned and pressed tight into Daryl, back arching from his own orgasm as his cock pulsed and twitched deep inside his lover. Rick’s breaths were heavy as he slid out and gently turned Daryl around, finding his mouth, kissing and licking and sucking at his lover’s lips. 

“Rick, please,” Daryl whimpered. “Don’t make me wait long.”

Rick kissed Daryl lazily, slowly sliding his tongue in and out of Daryl’s mouth and biting at his lower lip. “You want me to make you come?” Rick asked seductively. 

“Yes,” Daryl whined. 

Rick zipped himself up and then slowly lowered to his knees, kissing Daryl’s nipples, along his abs and each of his hip bones gently on the way down. He looked at Daryl with eyes full of unspoken words before he latched on to Daryl’s cock with his mouth, tongue wrapping around him, lips tight, moans vibrating right into Daryl’s core. The younger man was wide-eyed at Rick below him. He looked around at raised eyebrows over a Dom on his knees like this. Rick kept his stormy eyes on Daryl’s. “You gonna swallow me, Rick?” the younger man asked timidly. Rick nodded as he moved up and down on Daryl, moaning an “mmhm” as he worked Daryl with his full pink lips.

Daryl felt his orgasm speeding towards him like a runaway train, Rick’s blue eyes fixed on him and his hot, wet mouth around Daryl’s throbbing dick. And it came hard and fast and explosive, throwing Daryl’s head back, dragging a long slow moan out of him as he felt himself pulse into Rick’s mouth. Rick leaned his head back and swallowed as he stood up and Daryl ducked down to lick the line of his lover’s throat up to his chin and kissed his lips, tongue reaching in for a taste of what Rick had just pulled from him. His heart was racing. 

Rick brought him by the hand back to the couch, the leash left dangling. They sat, Rick grabbing Daryl’s feet and putting them over his lap, hugging his lover against him and petting his head. “Was that nice?” he asked.

Daryl nodded, still catching his breath. Rick ordered a Corona with no lime and alternated between taking sips and lifting Daryl’s chin to give him sips. And they sat cuddled the rest of the night, watching others, listening to the music, whispering to each other and giggling. It was their night. And they could do whatever they wanted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Up next- The epilogue! I'll be so sad to leave this story. Hope you guys are continuing to enjoy. 
> 
> Tomorrow will be the last chapter.  
> :-(


	15. I Am Complete

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Epilogue. Four years later...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Skarlatha- I can't believe how much time and effort you put into beta'ing for me. I am eternally grateful!! You are my Fan Fic Mentor and I'm so glad we've become friends!! Time for me to start planning my next long fic for you! :-)
> 
> Also- Thanks for the cover you made!!!

Four years later

Daryl stood alone in the modest, secluded mountain home in front of the big picture window overlooking the lake. Standing shirtless and in pajama bottoms, he waited for the sun to come up and thought about being alone. Being alone was like always waiting but not really sure for what. It was silence and emptiness. Hopelessness. It was wanting and not getting. The house was quiet. Something had been missing for Daryl. Something had been missing for years. Until he'd met Rick. 

Daryl could feel more than hear Rick come up behind him and slide his arm around his lover as he joined him at the window. He was never alone now. He hadn't spent more than twenty minutes alone in the past four years. Rick wouldn't allow it. He knew how much Daryl hated it and he gave Daryl anything he wanted. 

Daryl let his head drop back to Rick's right shoulder. His lover's left eye and left ear remained damaged, but he never complained. Daryl always made sure to whisper into the correct ear and stay on the right side of Rick. It was habit. Even Harley knew not to sneak up on Rick's left side. 

"Morning, love," Rick whispered, kissing against Daryl's neck. 

Their new home was much smaller. The high ceilings and long empty hallways were gone, but they kept the privacy when they bought their lakeview home in the mountains. Shane still had another six years of prison time, but Rick had been paranoid about revenge. It was nice to know they were already long gone and well hidden. There wouldn't be a chance they'd ever have to worry about crossing paths or being found.

"Mmmmm..." Daryl sighed as he felt his lover hug tight against him, already feeling the growing erection against his ass. He reached a hand back and felt Rick's thigh, bare and warm.

"Are you naked?" the younger man asked without turning around.

"Yah."

"You think you can just walk around and take me whenever you want?"

"Mhmm," Rick murmured as he ran soft hands across Daryl's chest, feather-kissing his shoulders. "Why you wearin' these?" he asked, tugging at the waistband of Daryl's pants.

Daryl grinned. "You gonna punish me for wearin' pants?" He tilted his head to offer more neck and throat for Rick to pepper with kisses.

"You wish," Rick teased.

"Needed the pants for the pocket."

Rick slid a hand down to Daryl's pocket and pulled out the lube he knew would be in there. "I'll hold this for you. Don't need the pants now," Rick said as he slid fingers back into the waistband and tugged them off Daryl's hips, dropping them to the floor.

"Are you glad you got rid of that stupid mansion?" Daryl whispered, looking at the panoramic view from their secluded luxury cabin.

"Yes," Rick answered obediently.

"Are you glad you quit working?" Daryl asked, the sound of a grin on his lips. He'd been thrilled that with the move, Rick had also handed the reins of his business to a trusted co-worker to handle the day-to-day.

"Yes."

"Why?" Daryl tested.

"So I can be with you whenever you want me."

"I want you now," Daryl said softly, as his hips rolled gently back into Rick's. 

The breath against his neck still gave him goosebumps. Rick took Daryl's hands and pressed them to the window. The younger man felt a hand drop to his hip and a lubed finger slide inside him. "More," Daryl begged instantly. He was still stretched from the love-making an hour ago in bed. Daryl loved mornings in their new home with Rick. They were long and slow and dizzying.

Rick pushed his length into his lover with a gasp like it was their first time. Their bodies rocked together, Rick's hands flat against Daryl moving slow over his abdomen and his chest. Feeling. Touching. Pulling him close. Daryl's body tingled with the sensations from Rick thick and hard inside him, keeping his hands on the window to brace them as they rocked. 

Rick inside him was pure comfort. He felt empty without his lover's arms around him, without the feel of him deep inside. He wanted it always. He was insatiable. He wanted it hard and fast and frenzied. He wanted it under blankets on a soft bed, slow and whispery. He wanted it against the picture window right before the sun came up. And Daryl knew how to get what he wanted.

Daryl was happy. He was someone and he belonged to someone and he was no longer alone and invisible in the world. He was still awkward and shy. But but not always. He was still meek and quiet, but sometimes he was the strong one when it was needed. He was sometimes bashful and submissive and sometimes demanding and bold. He loved and he was loved back and he was whole. It was everything he ever wanted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope everyone enjoyed this fic. I tried to make it about more than just sex even though the D/s sexual dynamic was a big focus. I was thrilled to read your comments this whole time and see that you were all reading it on a deeper level and that you enjoyed the relationship evolving and the agony of the life and death chapters and the ideas about what we all really want in life. 
> 
> I can't thank you guys enough for all your comments. Hearing the love like that is better than getting paid! LOL! If you are looking for something to read while you are waiting for more from me, I have a crap-load of other fics on here. Also- Be sure to check out my Beta-reader, Skarlatha's fics. Most of you have probably already read her. But if you haven't read her full-length novel, Shadows Where I Stand, that would give you a nice long read with this fic being finished. Plus it is fantastic and a hell of a page-turner!!

**Author's Note:**

> So- I hope some of you are hooked and want more... Cause it's already written! I'd love to get comments and feedback if you have the time!
> 
> P.s. I'm on tumblr now! TWDObsessive

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Cover for "Want"](https://archiveofourown.org/works/4344002) by [SkariCovers (skarlatha)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/skarlatha/pseuds/SkariCovers)




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